


Puppetmaster

by synomous01



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synomous01/pseuds/synomous01
Summary: AU: Morgana returns and her vengeance upon Camelot burns deep.





	1. The East Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Merlin, though it would be amazing if I did

**Arthur**

"It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur?"

Arthur did not feel obliged to answer Morgana's question. Instead, there was a flash of anger in his eyes, and his desire to attack her grew only greater.

The blade to which Morgana's question was related to was the same the dagger he had given her for her birthday some years ago. Those had been the days when he had loved her like a sister, even before he discovered she was indeed his half-sister. But this twisted new Morgana was not the same woman of that past. She was not even a shadow of it. She was cold, calculated and had the intent of destroying everything that Arthur held dear in Camelot.

It had started as a mistake. _His_ mistake because he still thought there would be a chance of redemption in Morgana. He had allowed her to the opportunity to do this to him, and that guilt and regret burned in him.

She had come to say her sorrows of Uther's passing. While Arthur held deep suspicions towards Morgana, he had thought the loss of her sister Morgause to the Veil may have changed her. That Morgause's influence had stopped somehow. And Arthur would have his sister return to him, whole and not insane with ideas on killing him and all of Camelot.

But how wrong had he been. Arthur had been taken in by her sorrow. Her pretense. She had given him some sort of draught after enchanting him with a spell. He remembered how it had initially felt, as if a part of him was locked up, trapped. He felt like he was drowning. At least, however, he had gotten to see Morgana's pained expression. The spell was a very difficult one apparently and it took a lot out of the caster, in fact, Morgana's hair had streaks of silver hair after casting it. At least for that, Arthur was pleased there was a cost, even if it was Morgana's own vanity.

Despite how weak Morgana looked after casting the enchantment, the spell had a strong hold on Arthur. And it grew stronger each minute.

Arthur felt stupid at his mistake that he should not have met Morgana alone. He should have known better. And he paid the price for trusting her.

Morgana had plans, and she had plotted them out well. In fact, she liked talking about them to Arthur, knowing full well he could nothing at all. He supposed at one point then that was what all villains liked to do, talk about their grand schemes, show how clever they were. While usually the ideas were farfetched and likely to fail, the more Arthur listened to her plans, the more chilled he had become. Her old plans with Morgause were never so calculated. Yet it seemed without Morgause around, and perhaps her obsession like personality, something had inadvertently snapped in Morgana. It was just unfortunately that it wasn't the logical part of her that burned itself out, but rather the illogical and reckless part of her that died out.

Her first item on the agenda: To deal with Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. His most faithful of Knights, who had gone through thick and thin through battles with him, she had him disband them, sending them instead to lead army on quests that led them through treacherous grounds - valley of the fallen kings, some into enemy territory such as Lot's or Cendred's Kingdom. Much of which were suicidal missions and had astounded them. He still remembered Sir Leon's face when he made the announcement.

They had protested at first, but his voice, he could hear it, how commanding it was, just like his father's was, it was an order, not a request.

They were immediately deployed that same day. He remembered Gwen's face, and the horror of his order for her brother, Elyan to be sent on a suicide mission.

They had argued in Arthur's chambers, Gwen doing most of the talking, and Arthur, simply looking impassive and cold.

That night had been uncomfortable, but Arthur had no say in anything. He was locked inside of himself, and he feared he was losing Guinevere, for her silence was deafening.

But he was wrong. No, Gwen indeed did know him better than he himself. She came into the quarters that night and she had doused him with something, apologizing. She then began to dab something on the back of his neck, as if expecting something. Nothing. The look on her face was shocking.

Not as shocking as when Arthur saw Morgana step out from behind Gwen. Arthur wanted to shout something, but he couldn't. He could only watch in horror as Morgana struck out with spell and Gwen collapsed into an unconscious heap on the marbled floor of his quarters.

Morgana allowed Arthur to watch Gwen but no way to hold her, check if she was okay or not. Simply sitting there, watching like an observer.

Morgana spent time sitting there, looking through her spellbook, and she seemed to smile having found something she liked.

She whispered the spell, and there a swirl of dark mist appeared before her and then it entered Gwen. He watched in horror as her body jerked in pain at the intruding spell.

Arthur wanted to scream, but he could only watch. And slowly, Gwen's eyes opened. For a moment Arthur feared that she too was under Morgana's control. But looking into her eyes, he saw Gwen. She was still herself.

"Arthur," she said in a hoarse whisper. And then suddenly she started convulse. Morgana walked over to her slowly, her face a smirk on it. It repulsed Arthur. How could Morgana treat Gwen like this? While she could hate Arthur for who he was, could hate Uther even, what had Gwen ever done to Morgana except be her friend, her confident?

One touch from Morgana's hand, however, Gwen seemed to calm and fall back into a slumber.

Morgana looked at Arthur who all but wanted to rush to Gwen's side but was instead fixed to sitting on the side of his bed and watch his Queen lay on the cold marble floors, unmoving.

Morgana waved her hand and instantly, Arthur felt himself released from his Observer's role. He could speak, move, and instantly he went for his sword in his scabbard. Morgana, however, did not seemed to care.

"Arthur, you should know that if you dare to harm me, I will kill Gwen."

Those words froze Arthur to the spot.

"I will kill her slowly and painfully. Listen well, dear brother. Obey me, and your lovely Queen will live another day."

"You have become a monster, Morgana," breathed out Arthur, unable to control his rage.

"Have I?"

"You have. What has Gwen ever done to you? And the Knights, and soldiers of Camelot. Sending them to their deaths. If you wanted to rule Camelot, this is… this is not the way."

He ended it with a plea. There was a part of Arthur that longed for the old Morgana. The Morgana that had wanted to save the poor, the helpless. Who was this cold woman that stood in front of him?

"Where is the Morgana that I once knew," Arthur asked, his voice cracked despite his tries to control it.

"That Morgana was naive," she spat out, "And she died long ago, right along with the many druids that died in the hands of Uther Pendragon."

"What father had done, it was wrong. I know that Morgana. But that is the past. I _will_ change things, I promise – "

"It will never change," snapped Morgana. "Not with a Pendragon on the throne."

Arthur shook his head, "Are you not my father's daughter, either? A Pendragon?"

Arthur knew he had hit a nerve when she saw the murderous rage in Morgana's eyes.

"I was never even given the _name_ of a Pendragon, Arthur, so don't you dare use that on me. Uther," she emphasized the name of the former King, "treated me as a Ward for over twenty years. I was not a _daughter_ to him, Arthur, I was a simple ward. That is not a father. He lived as a manipulator and recognized only one child, and that is you," she said coldly. "Morgana Pendragon never existed to him until he felt regret," she gave out a frigid laugh.

"But let us not talk of the dead King, instead, I have great plans for this new era for you, dear brother. There will be a change in the tide. No longer will we of magic fear any of you. Be ruled by your laws. We will live as we should always have lived."

"Tomorrow… Gaius and Merlin return from the Elador, do they not?"

Arthur said nothing. He feared what Morgana had in mind.

"I hope he enjoyed his time off visiting his dear mother." With that, she fingered something by her side and then unsheathed it. It was the dagger he had given her years ago. Bejeweled with gems it was of startling beauty.

"It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur?" She paused for slight moment, seemingly to get lost in looking at the glint on the silver blade. "Tomorrow, I want you to greet your dear manservant with this."

Arthur simply glared at her and spoke with gritted teeth, "I will do no such bidding of yours – "

"You won't need to, dear brother. You won't need. You will simply watch," and she waved again, and he felt again his body was no longer in his control.

"Sleep well tonight," said Morgana in a whisper as she gently touched the side of his face like a half caress. If Arthur could have shivered away from her, he would have, but he could do nothing. All except obey. His eyes, no matter how he tried to keep them open, closed, and then he fell into a slumber.

The morning came and Arthur found himself awaking from his bed. He was unsure how that had happened for his last memory was sitting there..watching Gwen.. oh dear Gods, where was she? Arthur felt his body move, like a robot across the room to the dresser. No, Gwen wasn't there any more. What happened to her? What had Morgana… wait. Arthur felt his body turn and then he saw her, his Guinevere lay asleep in their bed. While Gwen appeared serene, Arthur was sure that Morgana had done some terrible spell on her.

Arthur knew he had to do something. Anything. He had to let Gaius and Merlin know that he was no longer in control.

Yet no matter how hard he tried, he felt his body out of his grasp. It was as if he were sleepwalking. Today, though, it seemed as if the spell was stronger.

No. No he would fight it. He was not going to hurt Merlin.

Yet even as he thought that, his body betrayed him leading him down towards the Physician's quarters.

There, he spotted Gaius there. He could feel his face turn to a greeting smile and his voice rang out bright and cheerful, "Gaius! You've returned!"

"Sire," said Gaius respectfully."

"How was the visit to Ealdor? The villagers doing well after the outbreak? Hunith?" Oh these words were so key. Morgana had planned this well. It sounded like him him, Arthur realized. Was he so easy to mimic?

"Yes, Sire, the villagers have more or less on the mend from the outbreak. Hunith is recovering now; thank you, Sire, for allowing Merlin the time off at this busy time."

"Nonsense, Merlin is a dear friend to me, I would never disallow him time off when needed."

That drew a raised eyebrow from Gaius for a moment but then the physician let it pass. "Nonetheless, Merlin is appreciative."

"Actually, Gaius, I wanted to ask you of a favour. I know you must be exhausted from your travels, but there has been a call from a dear friend of mine from the Methor Kingdom, and he needs a good physician to help him get over a deadly ailment. Could I request of you to see to him?"

Gaius thought for a moment, and then Arthur heard his voice add on, "It's Lontar, that's the diagnosis that was given."

At the diagnosis Gaius seemed more thoughtful in his answer, "Very well, Sire. I shall make haste. Merlin should be able to handle things while I am gone."

"Thank you, Gaius, I appreciate it very much."

"No need, your Majesty."

Arthur watched himself watch as Gaius packed his herbal pouches and medical supplies for a moment before leaving the physician's quarters.

Morgana seemed to pace everything very well, having no rushing, making the illusion of normality very real.

Arthur even went to do his daily sparring with his new Knights of Camelot for the better half of the morning and then alas at lunch hour, he went to the throne room to have his weekly council meeting.

The meeting went quickly, Arthur barely needed to say anything, it was simply sitting and listening to reports and nodding here and there. Arthur wondered if that was really what he did on a normal basis.

Alas the throne room cleared out and Arthur, wanted to let out a sigh of relief but even that wasn't given to him. His body was not his, and instead he could only sit there numbly, staring at whatever random pages his fingers flipped through. Well. At least Merlin was avoided. It looked like it was near evening already and his friend was nowhere to be found. While normally not seeing his manservant was a worrisome thing, today in particular, Arthur was relived to not find him anywhere in the vicinity of Camelot. Perhaps Gaius's latest herb collecting took his friend far enough away that he would be safe from Morgana and Arthur himself.

The relief, however, was short lived. The doors to the throne room suddenly opened and Merlin appeared. Still dressed in his herb collecting clothing with his pouch by his side, Arthur knew that Merlin had come to see him as soon as he had finished doing his tasks for Gaius. _No. No!_ Cried Arthur from within himself. He remembered the cold conversation with Morgana the night before. _Run, Merlin. You must run!_

He tried to indicate it with his eyes. The one thing he could control was the flurry of emotion behind them. He had practiced it whenever he had been in front of a reflective surface.

Merlin seemed to sense something was wrong as he approached Arthur.

"Is everything alright?" concern etched over his brow. _Oh Merlin_ , thought Arthur with fear, _if you only knew how nothing was alright!_

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Instead was the response.

"Well, you look incredibly stiff for one," said Merlin a matter-of-factedly.

"It was a rough practice round this morning," said Arthur sighing. Gods. Arthur wanted to fight himself as he felt his hands reach for the dagger that was strapped to his belt. And for a moment he thought he had succeeded because he felt his hand fall away.

"Just finished collecting herbs for Gauis, I see."

Merlin grinned, "Yes, collected quite a bit actually. Even some rare ones."

"I'm sure Gauis would be pleased."

"I think he would as well."

"You must be parched then?"

"I'm alright Arthur. Have my canteen right here, still filled to the brim." He said tapping the container by his side. "Didn't know you cared so much for my well-being," he said with mirth.

"Haven't I always?" Arthur felt himself rise and begin to pour himself a drink.

He could see Merlin hold back an eye roll to his reply.

"I'm glad that the people of Elador are okay. And that Hunith is well too."

"Thanks, Arthur," smiled Merlin, "and thank you for letting me have the time off again. I know things have been busy for you, handling all those treaties…" he trailed off as Arthur approached him with a cup of wine.

"No, that's alright, Arthur," shaking his head, "I still need to keep a clear head to help Gauis with the preparation of the herbs."

"Now, now, Merlin, don't be such a _girl_ ," Gods, thought Arthur, that did sound like him. "One drink isn't going to hurt anyone. Besides, I thought you frequent the tavern as much as Gwaine?"

At those words, Merlin seemed to roll his eyes, feeling more at ease. _No_ , thought Arthur, _you must run. Get out of here. Please!_

"Besides, I'm pleased to tell you, the remedy that was given to the Northern Villages worked out well. You and Gaius are lifesavers." Well, that much _was_ true, Arthur indeed wanted to commend both the physician and Merlin for their hardwork on the formulae.

"To good health to all of Camelot," said Arthur as he lifted his own cup as he handed Merlin his. Merlin smiled, hesitated just for a slight moment before drinking it.

Arthur noticed he hadn't drunk his at all. This was not a good sign. Gods. Was… was it poison?

Arthur simply placed his cup back down on the table.

"Arthur, what is this drink, it's pretty strong," Merlin was adjusting his neckerchief.

"Oh just something new Gwaine introduced me to."

"Well, he should really stop introducing you to such hard liquor, or you'd be quite the drunken King instead of just being a prat."

"Well, I'll remember to tell him that."

Arthur felt himself grin widely. "I'm just glad everything went well, Merlin. Thank you, thank you for all these years of helping me create this," he gestured around him. Camelot would not have been this way without you by my side."

Merlin grinned, mirth on his face, but he was taken aback from it. "Maybe the drink has gotten to you," still adjusting his neckerchief, but there was a strained expression on his face. "Hard to ever get a decent compliment from you." Merlin, Arthur saw, felt something wrong. The drink wasn't right. And for a moment, Merlin had a flash of fear as if there was a realization. But it was too late. Arthur felt himself move forward, like a hunter closing in on the prey for the kill.

"No, just simply grateful." Said Arthur just as he closed the final distance to Merlin into a firm brotherly embrace.

"And that is why it must be goodbye."

Arthur could feel the confusion in Merlin and tension in Merlin's body all at once. Merlin _knew_ something was wrong, but he also knew it was too late. Arthur felt the horror rip through him as he felt his own hands draw out the dagger from his sheath.

" _It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur."_

No. NO. NO!

Arthur felt as if the blade had stabbed _him_. He felt as if it was his own blood was spilled. Over and over again, he felt himself bury the blade into Merlin's abdomen. Each time, he seemed to bury the dagger deeper. He could feel Merlin's cry of pain, his pleas that fell to deaf ears, "Arthur, please, please stop." But he couldn't stop. He could feel his friend's breath grow ragged with each stab.

Tears rolled down Arthur's face. Gods. By the Gods. Merlin! Merlin, no. Please no. Merlin could no longer stand. His body was limp against Arthurs. There was wetness on the back of Arthur's shoulders. Blood from his lips. He could feel his friend's blood soak into his royal robes. What his robes could not absorb, dripped down upon the white marbled floors of the throne room.

There was so much blood. So much of it.

Arthur felt himself push away Merlin's body, and like a ragdoll, his friend fell to the ground. His eyes were shut. His face was pale as his lips were near colorless save for the trickle of blood that trickled from his pursed lips. His clothing was stained red and only spreading. Arthur wanted to blink away the scene from his sight. He wanted this nightmare to end. This wasn't happening. He hadn't..he hadn't just killed his friend.

Arthur saw a shadow from behind, and he knew it was Morgana. She wanted to see her handiwork.

"Well done, Arthur. Well done indeed."

Oh how much Arthur wanted to shout, wanted to cry out. His friend was dying, if he wasn't dead already. The blade was still in his hand. Gods. He wanted to turn it and strike his sister. But the dagger held still and firm in his hands.

Tears fell from Arthur's face despite his smiling expression. He felt like he was suffocating. Seeing his Merlin's still body and feeling his friend's blood on his hands from having stabbed him. He felt sick. He wanted to turn away. But he couldn't, his body was a shell and he was trapped within it.

"Oh dear brother, did you want to say something?" said Morgana coyly looking at his anguished and tormented eyes.

Oh Arthur wanted to say more than something. He wanted to use the dagger on her, and it was clear in Morgana's expression she was no fool to that.

But what she did allow was for him to have his voice back at least.

"Please, Morgana. Please, I will do anything that you ask. Please let me help Merlin. He's done nothing to you, he was your friend!"

At those words, Morgana broke out in a manic laugh. " _Friend?_ What friend would poison another Arthur?"

Arthur didn't know what to make of it, he was in fact confused from it. Merlin would never poison anyone. But he didn't want to hear about the reason behind it. He just _wanted_ to save his friend! And it seemed that Morgana had the same mindset as well, at least in the poison elaboration part.

"No matter, Arthur, you know so little of what your servant has done in the past for you. And at least now I have my retribution. An eye for an eye. Or I guess in this case, a little bit more than an eye," and she chuckled at the last bit as if it were an inside joke. Clearly, she would be the only one laughing, thought Arthur disheartenedly.

Morgana crossed the floor and knelt down beside the unmoving form of Merlin, and ever so gently brushed her hand on the side of his cheek and then wiped the bit red trickle of blood from the side of his lips.

"Did you like the taste of the poison, _Mer_ lin? Did it taste bitter or did it burn?"

All the while the pool of blood was expanding beneath his dear friend's body making Arthur feel the terrible panic.

"Please Morgana -" started Arthur again, but suddenly he felt the control grip over him again and he could no longer speak.

"Enough of your begging, Arthur. Have you not heard of silence for a moment like this? Your friend is _dying_ after all. Or is he dead already?" She let out a laugh again when she saw his expression. "Oh, Arthur, Arthur. It's so unbecoming of a King of Camelot! Worrying and begging to save a servants life?" Morgana shook her head, "Such weakness. How would you ever achieve great things?"

Arthur shuddered inside at those words. Oh how much Morgana despised everything Uther was, yet she spoke the same words that he had uttered so many times to Arthur. Morgana was truly Uther's daughter, right down to the ruthlessness.

"Arthur," she said ever so coldly after what felt like forever, "have your guards drag this thing where no one can find him, won't you? And do tell them to speak nothing of Merlins... demise. We wouldn't want to alarm anyone."

"Yes, Morgana," Arthur heard himself say.

Morgana smiled and once again touched Merlin's side of the face as she eyed the bloody wound on Merlin's abdomen.

"Poor Merlin. Murdered by your best friend. Shame indeed."

She stood up and made her way out of the throne room leaving Arthur alone and staring at Merlin's still body.

Oh how Arthur fought within the shell of his own body, screaming, pounding, but it was to no avail. Morgana's spell was strong, and only growing stronger.

"Guards," he heard himself call out. Two entered within a moment.

"Yes, Sire?" And then they saw Merlin's unmoving figure on the ground, a pool of blood around him and they nearly balked at the sight. They knew of Merlin, no doubt, the most trusted manservant to King Arthur. Yet there he was, bloody and likely dead, and the blade... they saw the blade still in Arthur's own hand. The King held no remorse on his face. There was utter coldness and detachment. It was rather chilling for them to behold. For a moment, they saw the former King, King Uther that stood before them. It was frightening.

"Remove this servant, and have him disposed to a place where no one will find him." Arthur seemed to pause for a moment before adding to them, "Speak to no one of this." The two soldiers nodded and bowed.

That night, two figures silently made their way to the most remote place that they knew of; the crypts of camelot. Quiet as they could, they weaved through the many corridors, carrying the still body of King Arthur's most trusted manservant to be placed in a forgotten tomb of stone and dust. There would lay, Merlin of Ealdor, for no one to find and no to mourn for and in darkness as the door to the tomb was sealed, and never to be opened again.


	2. The Knights of the Round Table

**Gwaine**

Gwaine’s feet sloshed into what was knee-deep mud.  _A God damn swamp that’s what it was_.  He groaned in frustration as he forced himself to trudge forward.  _Seriously_ , thought Gwaine angrily to himself, _had the **Princess** gone mad_?   _What was this quest for again?  Some stupid Gauntlet?  He wanted what, to add to his prized collection?  Was this Arthur without Merlin around?_  

Merlin had left for Ealdor to see his ill mother and for the three weeks that he was gone, King Arthur had slowly become more like his father.  It was rather astounding on how arrogant the King had become, and while at first it was annoying, it had become rather unsettling as well. 

There had been a part of him that would stare at Arthur at his orders, trying to figure out if really, that was what he really meant.  But he could see nothing but resolve in the man’s eyes.  Gwaine had thought perhaps the strain of all the treaty negotiations was making the man seemed more colder than usual.  But regardless of the strain he may have felt, to disband his Knights of the Round table and have them fetch what he called, “Prized Articles of Camelot,” made so little sense that all of the Knights had protested.

This in turn had led Arthur to turn angry and the reminder of the Knight’s code.

Damn that Knight’s code, thought Gwaine.  To him, he’d never wanted to be become a Knight of any Round Table.  But in the end he had sworn into it, at first it was because of Merlin.  That boy had managed to get under his skin, reminded him of loyalty and chivalry, something he had thought had long died in him.  And it was through Merlin that he saw that the princess of a crown prince then, was worthy to be a friend as well as the future ruler of Camelot.

And then it became second nature to protect Arthur, for he was righteous, so much more than Uther ever was.  There was hope in him, Merlin could see it then, and with his nudging, Gwaine saw it as well.  Protect the King, protect the future of Camelot.

But that was _that_ King.  That then was the Arthur Gwaine recognized, the one that would prattle on with Merlin and joke with the Knights.  It was not this new Arthur, one who looked to increase his vaults with rare items from across Kingdoms, risking even war.  Did it even make sense?  Treaties were made to refrain from war.  Yet here they were, setting out, stowing into the night to _steal_ something back to Camelot that was not theirs to begin with.

Gwaine seriously had doubts about the King and if at all he was in his right mind.  So much to a point where he had started a letter to deliver to Merlin and Gaius, stating his concerns about the state of mind of the King.  As _arrogant_ as the Princess was on a normal basis, this was taken a bit too far.  He’d been meaning to deliver it, but ironically it was a night at the Tavern that had led him to miss sending the letter.  He’d woken up at the Tavern still, though he’d not remembered drinking _all_ that much.  Despite it all, his greatest regret of course he had missed his chance to figure out what the hell was wrong with their King.  The very next day, Arthur had ordered them to lead these quests. 

At least Gwaine wasn’t suffering the ridiculous trek alone, he had his mate Leon to chat with.  Though at the moment, the man was anything but chatty.  The normally stoic and impassive Sir Leon was cursing as he pulled through the swampish gook they were walking through.  His fellow comrade looked worn and more so, he was anguished as well.  Sir Leon had been the closest Knight to Arthur for the longest of times.  It must have stung to have to see his Lord and friend turn this way, like a reflection of King Uther.

No, Gwaine decided, this wasn’t possible.  Whatever they had to do to finish this ‘quest’, they would do, but then they would return, and he would find out exactly what was going on with Arthur.  He’d talk to Merlin and Gaius and find a solution.  They had to.  This was not the path of Camelot.

“Let’s get a move on this!” Called Gwaine to the remaining three Knights behind him.  There was a grumble but the movement was swifter.   Now he only hoped whatever was happening back in Camelot wasn’t anymore crazier then this and that his two fellow Knights, Percival and Elyan were successful with their dangerous assignment.

***

**Percival**

By the Gods, this was insane.  Percival looked to Elyan who nodded in affirmation, not that it was insane, but that he was ready.  To literally lunge from where he was to the third tower.  Missing it would mean a fall of nearly 12 feet below.  This was their third try in scaling the tower.  While one could simply have just attached a rope and anchored upwards, this 3rd tower was particularly fickle, the tower’s bricks tended to crack in multiple parts when any attempt to insert a nail or anchor to it.  They’d discovered it the hard way when Sir Hedwig had fallen after attempting it.  Thankfully he wasn’t too injured, but he wouldn’t be doing much climbing for the next while.  The only solution they could do was to use the leap from the 2nd tower to the third. 

The two of them, along with three other Knights below them acting as spotters, had been sent through Lots Kingdom to bring back a prized armor that Arthur wanted to add to his vaults.  Percival had shaken his head at his King’s words.  Adding artifacts?  Risking war by going through their territories and stealing from them?  And right after signing a new treaty?

It made no sense.  None whatsoever.  But they had little chance to argue the point with Arthur because he had already made the arrangements.  And even split the Knights up.  Percival just wanted the task done and to return to Camelot.  There was something ailing their King, something on his mind perhaps.  It was not like him to act so rashfully, and so  much like his father, Uther.

“Elyan, make to grab that brick jutting out 1 o’clock to the right.  You can do this.”

Elyan nodded, too concentrated to speak.

His friend made the leap.  There was a gripping moment Percival could see Elyan loose his balance, but it was only a moment and then he had a solid hold on the other tower.  _Yes_.  They were close now.  Well, _closer_.   Elyan moved upwards a few more paces before he gave Percival the signal.  Now it was _his_ turn. 

Percival took the leap without a moments hesitation.  His last thoughts on his mind were that that his fellow Knights Gwaine and Leon were doing well on their quest.

 

 


	3. Fear of the Heart

**Gwen**

Gwen had thought she had figured out what ailed Arthur.  That day, when she learned of her husband and King’s strange new orders, she knew for sure that Arthur was not of sound mind.  Over the time of the treaty and negotiations, Gwen knew that Arthur was preoccupied with so many tasks on hand, it was not uncustomary for him to seem distant.  But that was different from orders that made no sense.  Sending his most loyal Knights to fetch old artifacts to add to Camelot’s vaults?  It was _not_ her Arthur.

Gwen did not know if it was an enchantment or not, but she figured if she could simply drug Arthur for a few hours, she could come up with an explanation.  She had hastily sent out a messenger to give word to Gaius and Merlin that something was wrong with Arthur, but it seemed that Morgana had been a step ahead of her.

Gwen had been wrong about what ailed Arthur.  It was not the same thing that had possessed Merlin.  She had thought it could have been.  And while she had been wrong, she thought she would have another chance, but that had been lost the moment Morgana entered the picture.

Morgana.  How once upon a time the two had been friends, although they were of different Classes.  But that had been then…. Before she had been corrupted by Magic.  The darkness that had shrouded her once close confident, Gwen didn’t recognize Morgana at all.  She was cold and cruel, and could easily kill without a second thought.  Although Morgana claimed to hate Uther so much, she was so much like her father it was unsettling to say the least.

While Uther wanted all those who had magic to be burned or killed, Morgana wanted the same, to all those who were not with magic to die and perish in her hands. 

The were one of the same coin. 

And for a moment Gwen had feared her husband had become just that in the short duration.  But Gwen _knew_ Arthur.  She knew him and she would never believe her husband and king would ever become so cold, not to the Knights that had been loyal to him, not for the greed of artifacts, and most certainly, he would have consulted with her before sending Elyan on a journey he may not return from.

No.  It wasn’t Arthur.

It was Arthur controlled by Morgana as it seemed.

After Arthur had left in the morning to do this duties as King, Morgana had appeared again, and the sound of her voice chilled Gwen.  Although she could not see the woman, her eyes forced shut against her will, the tone she carried as she prattled on her plan, it was of a woman that was broken and irreparable.  Did Morgana even look to what she was doing?  She was on her way to creating a purge, but not of the magical kind.  The people of Camelot would feel her wrath, for simply existing.

But in some ways, Gwen could sense something else.  Morgana was in pain.  Deep pain.  Gwen had heard that Morgause, sister to Morgana had perished recently.  The woman was frightening in the times Gwen had encountered her.  Gwen could have blamed Morgause for twisting the mind of Morgana, but that could not have been further from the truth.  Morgana _had_ a choice.  She was raised in Camelot as the King’s Ward.  Regardless if she hated Uther or resented Arthur for being the one to take the throne, still, the people within Camelot, they were innocent. 

And Arthur.  He had never known Morgana was his sister, though he had always treated her as such, and not as some Ward people would have believed her to be.  They were family.  Yet this same person had turned and done these terrible things.

Gwen felt tears roll from her eyes, and it seemed to bring Morgana to a silence.  But only for a moment before she wiped the tears away from her eyes.  Still unable to open them, she could only listen as Morgana paced away from her.

Was this what Arthur felt?  Trapped?  Locked in?  It must have hurt him deeply to have no control, no power to do anything.

It was hours before Gwen heard footsteps again enter the room again.  She felt dizzy and exhausted despite having done nothing but lay in bed.  Likely because she hadn’t had any food.  Did Morgana intend this for her?  To lay her to waste on her very own bed, dying slowly next to the King with him helpless to do anything?  The thought was chilling, and for some reason Gwen wouldn’t be surprised.  Morgana was so full of hate she could very well do that simply to torture Arthur.

However to Gwen’s surprise, she was suddenly released from her prison.  She felt the magic wash over her body and suddenly, she was able to move her hands.  Gwen slowly sat up from the bed and opened her eyes, adjusting to the light of the afternoon sun.  It was definitely at least noon, perhaps later.

Gwen turned her head and looked unsurprisingly at Morgana.  In the light, Gwen could see that whatever Morgana was doing, her spells upon Arthur and even on her, it had taken a toll.  There were streaks of silver hair mixed her normally dark hair, and her face which had always been pale, was even more so now. 

Despite her appearance, her movements showed no such weakness.  She moved smoothly with grace as she came to Gwen’s side.

“You must be hungry, Gwen,” she said smiling.  “There is food over by the table, please feel free to have some.”

Gwen didn’t move despite having the ability to do so now.

Morgana took her silence as fear, “Now, there’s no need to be fearful, Gwen, I haven’t poisoned the food.  I don’t need to.”  Her eyes were dark when she added those last words.

“Why are you here, Morgana,” said Gwen keeping her emotions in check, afraid to give leave to how fearful she actually was.  “Are you here to gloat about your plans as you did all morning?”

The woman merely smiled at her words but didn’t say anything.  She seemed to be simply… observing.  It was unsettling.

“What did you do to Arthur?”  Gwen snapped out finally, unable to contain herself anymore.  It didn’t matter about what Morgana did to her, but Arthur, aside from her love for the man, there was the fact he was King of Camelot.  His orders were law. 

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself?”  Morgana replied in response.  Seeing not a flicker of emotion from Gwen, she smirked, “I am showing him mercy of course, Gwen.  More than he or Uther would have shown me.  He gets to live, but just under _my_ guidance.  You should be grateful, Gwen.  I could have done so much more.”  She emphasized on the words ‘more’. 

“You’re controlling him like a puppet,” stated Gwen, “how could you do that to your brother?”

Morgana’s mouth twitched at the words brother.

“I can do much more, Gwen, but I’m holding back dear _Queen_.”

Seeing that Gwen wasn’t going to move from the bed, Morgana uttered a spell it seemed and the tray of food suddenly appeared on Gwen’s lap.   

“You should have something before I put the spell back on you Gwen.”

Gwen wanted to take the bread and toss it to Morgana’s face.  But she couldn’t.  She had to live.  She had to save Arthur somehow.  She instead forced herself to chew on the bread.  She needed more information.  What did she give Arthur?  A potion?  Was there a creature in him?  She prayed that the serving girl managed relay the message to the royal messenger.

But as if reading her mind, Morgana spoke softly, “Dear Gwen, you are quick with your wit as you are with your mind.  Unfortunately, not fast enough, your serving girl had a little accident before delivering her message.  I think she’s snapped her neck on her little fall down the back steps of Camelot.”

Gwen nearly chocked on the morsel of bread in her mouth.  “Gyanna..”  Unshed tears came to Gwen’s eyes.  The girl was only sixteen.  She was but a child still.

“Oh, she had a name?”

“You’re a monster!” Cried Gwen in anguish and rose from her bed.  Her legs felt like rubber, and her bare feet felt chilled touching the marbled floors of the King’s quarters.

“Now now, calm yourself Gwen.”  Morgana did not seem taken aback at all by her reaction, but rather enjoyed it.  “The best news has yet to come.”

Gwen stood still at her words.

News?

It couldn’t have been Arthur, Morgana needed him still.  Elyan?  Was he… was he dead?

“Elyan, you haven’t – “ Gwen started, her eyes wide like saucers as she spoke.

Morgana didn’t seem to answer for a moment, as if she lost track of what wanted to say, but Gwen realized in a moment, it wasn’t that at all.  She was deciding _how_ to tell her to get the ‘best’ reaction.

Morgana tossed something to her.  By reflex, Gwen caught what looked like a blue cloth.  Once in her hands, she saw it wasn’t any blue cloth.  It was Merlin’s neckerchief.  And it was stained with dry blood. 

“What… what have you done to Merlin?”  Choked out Gwen.  It took all her power not to scream at Morgana. 

“I actually didn’t do anything to him.  But Arthur did.  It was quite gruesome actually.  Very bloody.”  Morgana’s smile seemed to widen more.

“What did you do to Merlin!,” demanded Gwen again, her voice rising in both panic and fear.  “What did you make Arthur do?!”

“Something, dear Gwen, he will remember for the rest of his long and prosperous life as King of Camelot.  You should really talk to him tonight, Gwen.  I think I may have broken your poor Arthur’s spirit.”

Morgana paused for a moment and then added, “Perhaps you should lie back down to bed and finish your meal, Gwen?”

Gwen felt sick.  Every part of her wanted to strike Morgana and wipe the evil smile off her face.  Yet again, she knew that would do nothing.  No.  She had to hold her anger in, and when it was time, she would exact her vengeance on Morgana. 

It was why it took so much of her to return to the bed and obediently finish the meal.  Each swallow seemed to be a betrayal to whatever had befallen upon Merlin.  But Gwen was no fool.  If she attacked Morgana, it would only be rash and if Merlin were with her now, he would say the same thing.  _Wouldn’t he?_   Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat.  Yes, he would understand. 

Gwen eyed Morgana who still had the look of satisfaction on her face.  _It must have been nice to have the King and Queen of Camelot on a leash_ , thought Gwen to herself, _but never underestimate Morgana, or your punishment for your crime will be three fold.  And for Merlin, I will have your head for this.  I promise you that._


	4. Darkness

**Merlin**

There was something to be said about being Arthur’s protector for the past six years.  And one of them was to always expect the unexpected.  You could be poisoned.  You could shot with a crossbow.  You could be thrown into dungeons.  Kidnapped by Bandits.  Tortured by your kin.  And so much more.  And then there was also the chance of being poisoned _and_ stabbed by your own King.

Merlin had felt something off with the King the moment he met his friend after returning from his tasks from Gaius.  At first he had assumed of course, the man had gain maturity as King of Camelot while he was away.  There had been a lot of pressure placed on Arthur, and Merlin had regretted deeply he couldn’t be there for him to be at least a confident or advisor.  But a terrible outbreak had broken out and word was sent to him that Hunith had taken for the worse.  Arthur had immediately given him the leave of absence, insisting that no job should be put before family.

If only Arthur knew what Merlin’s _real_ job was, keeping Arthur safe so that he could fulfill his destiny and bring upon the Golden age.

Merlin took the leave Arthur gave.  There had been a part of him that was worried about the chance of any magical attacks upon Camelot, but for the past few months, it had been quiet. Perhaps it was because Morguase was gone – and without her, Morgana seemed to have fallen quiet.  Perhaps the madness in Morgana had passed with no one to guide her destructiveness.

Clearly Merlin was wrong about that.  In fact, without Morgause there, Morgana had indeed gone more to the darkside.

Merlin spoke to Arthur, his words appeared to be no different than he had ever been.  At least that would have been the case if you did not know the man well enough.  But Merlin noticed the slight stiffness in the way he spoke, it was so subtle, noticeable if you were looking for it.  At first Merlin had chalked it up to paranoia, after so many cases with magical invasions, you sometimes see what you want to see. 

When Arthur offered the drink and threw out the joke about Gwaine, Merlin let loose his worries for a moment.  That unguarded moment was all that it took.  He’d felt the oddness of the wine the moment it went down his throat.  But in all his imagination, he had never thought this to happen.  And then it had been too late, he’d known it the moment Arthur said goodbye. 

“And this is why it is goodbye,” the King had said softly to him before he had buried a dagger to his abdomen.

Merlin felt the pain as the blade slid out and back in again, driven with more force each time.  While Merlin had vowed never to use his magic against Arthur, Merlin knew in that instant it was not his friend.  He was being controlled or something or the other.  With a flash, Merlin tried to use his magic to fight against the King’s gripping embrace.  He felt it flicker for a moment and then nothing happened.  Whatever had been in the drink had done something to him.  It was that time when Morgana had poisoned him in the Valley of the Fallen Kings.  He had to first neutralize the poison first.  Merlin felt his body succumb to his wounds, his body lost its ability to stand and he collapsed against the King.

Merlin knew he was dying.  By poison and the fact he’d been stabbed multiple times.  Every fiber in his body called to do something, but he couldn’t.  Everything was on fire for him.  The pain in his abdomen and the burning that was also raging through his body.  He felt himself being pushed forward.  Without any energy to fight the force, he felt his body drop, gravity pulling him down with a thud his himself laying horizontally on the cold marbled floors of the throne room.

A voice spoke, and Merlin knew it all too well; Morgana.

She sounded so damn pleased with herself.  And… by the Gods, she was beside him, brushing her cold fingers against his face.  While Merlin wanted anything to simply use a levitation spell to fling her against the walls, he could at that moment only do one thing; try to stay alive.

Merlin could hear Arthur, the pain in his voice, the anguish and the horror.  _Fear not, Arthur,_ thought Merlin, _never in a million years would I ever think you would murder me this way.  If anything, of any consolation, it would have more like being burned at a stake for discovering I had magic.  But that…will be more negative thoughts for another day_.  His thoughts were interrupted as he forced himself to focus on Morgana and her conversation with the King.  Merlin dared to lift his eyelids for a moment that he felt Morgana turn towards Arthur.  So it seemed that Morgana had some sort of spell on controlling Arthur, allowing him to be an observer to his life.  It was only for flicker of a moment, before Merlin couldn’t hold to conscious anymore.  It felt like he was floating on a lake, it was serene.  Cold.  He felt himself  jostled for a moment and the pain ripped through him, pulling him away from the calm he had felt moments ago.  He was being lifted and he’d actually fazed out for a moment.  At least he wasn’t unconscious.  Though in all sense he should have been. 

He was being carried.  Two guards.  Merlin wanted to struggle, he needed to get away, somehow find a way to save himself so he could save Arthur and remove Morgana once and for all.  But the need and desire to struggle was only in his mind.  In reality, Merlin knew he had little energy in his body, and if anything, he was at the brink of deaths door.  His only hope was that the guards didn’t listen to Arthur and got him instead got him to Gauis.  But Merlin knew that made little sense – this was King Arthur’s orders.  Why would you disobey your own King, and especially for a servant?

Merlin felt the winding of the corridors, the hurried breaths of the soldiers as they carried him.  Clearly he was indoors somewhere… within Camelot?  Damn.  Asking for aid from Kilgarrah was out of the question.  What seemed like forever, Merlin finally felt himself being set down upon a ground that felt cold like stone _.  Ah.  The Crypts of Camelot_.  Well at least one of them, likely the East one given the many steps downwards and winding corridors, not the same one that he had fought with Morgana in before.  Oh yes. He remembered that fight with her.  When she had summoned an undead army to attack Camelot.

_Perhaps I will become one of the undead here,_ mused Merlin darkly, but then shook himself from the negativity.  No.  He had a duty.  _Arthur.  He’s enchanted by Morgana, and who knows what else Morgana had set up._

First though, Merlin had to save himself.  And in all honesty, Merlin was quite used to doing that.  Just never… in such dire of situation as this.

The wound… the wound was mortal.  Merlin knew that.  But Merlin hoped that with the Kilgharrah’s help, that fact would change.  There was a thought of calling him there right and then, but it was unlikely that the Dragon could very well burst through Camelot without being harmed himself.  No.  He would never put Kilgharrah at risk like that.  Merlin needed to get himself out of the Crypt and somehow to an open field in the forest before he could call upon the dragon. 

Merlin attempted to use some sort of healing spell on his wound but was instead met with steely resistance.  His magic was shut down by the poison in him.  He had to neutralize it and the sooner the better.

The herbs.  Merlin knew the potentency of some of the latest herbs he had gathered for Gaius.  It could very well save his life.  The problem was right now, while Merlin’s mind was still lucid enough to function, his body had betrayed him, succumbing to the blood loss, his arms and hands refused to move.

Merlin had to try his magic again.  Perhaps it wasn’t strong enough to damage, but ever since he was born, he had the innate ability to levitate or move things with his mind.  Merlin prayed that he could still use this ability.  _Come on, you can do this_ , he thought.  Forcing himself to open his eyes, and being greeted by complete darkness of the sealed Crypt, Merlin casted a fire spell.  It was just a spittle that lit up, but it was enough to light up the darkness around him.

Even that small spell had cost Merlin.  He could feel the ripple of pain convulse through his body.  Merlin coughed.  Blood trickled out.  He was running out of time. 

Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he focused with difficulty on the belt around his waist.  Nothing was happening.  Again, Merlin tried, regardless how exhausted he was feeling. 

The belt shifted around his waist.  It was moving.  _Good_.  But now Merlin felt as if he had no energy to do anything else.  _Just a short rest_ , he thought to himself.  _Just a short one_.  Merlin closed his eyes.  The silence, the calmness that took over him.  Like the waters of Avalon.  The gentle ripples.  _Freya_ , he could almost see her face.  She was smiling by his side.  No.  She was sad.  _Merlin.  Merlin.  Not yet.  It isn’t your time.  You must fight.  My Merlin, you must fight._

Merlin wanted to reach for her, but Freya shook her head.  “ _The time will come, but it is not now.  You must save Arthur.  You must save your friends.  You must save Camelot.  They depend on you, Merlin.  Help them._ ”

_“I’m so tired, Freya,” he said, his voice sounded so weak even to himself.  “I don’t know if I can.  I don’t think I can.  Freya...”_

_“You can, and you shall, Merlin.  I will always be here waiting for you.  But you mustn’t give up now.  You mustn’t”.  He could feel her hand gently brush against his face, so much worry and care in her eyes, and sorrow as well._

And then she faded from his vision, and the calm of the lake fell still.  He was on the ground, he could feel the hardness of it.  It was so cold.  He was so cold.  Freya was right.  It wasn’t time.  He could not give in now, not when Arthur was in need.  The King, his friends, and Camelot were in danger.  He would make it through this and bring justice to Morgana and her crime.

Merlin opened his eyes with more resolve than he had earlier.  Although his condition was the same, well, perhaps worse, his inner strength was stronger.  Focusing more he levitated the belt and the pouch with all the herbs were in.  The most rare one that was found that day was the Albion Torchwood, a herb that both poisonous but at the same time had healing properties.

It may be enough to counteract whatever poison Morgana had Merlin ingest.  Mixing with Rue and two other poison neutralizing agents, Merlin knew he could produce something to offset or at least keep him alive until he could get help from Gaius.  Merlin too worried for his Mentor, for there was no lines that Morgana would not cross when it came for vengeance.

It was with great difficulty that Merlin managed to mix the medicine, just with the focus of his mind.  He only prayed that it was the correct dosage.  If he had added too much of the Albion Torchwood, he’d essentially be poisoning himself on top of the poison already in his body.  It would be some irony if that _did_ happen, but honestly, positive thoughts were what was needed now.

Merlin wasted no time in contemplating once the potion was made.  He had little time.  His body was failing, and he was starting to feel the lightheadedness overwhelm him.

The potion tasted bitter and it burned terribly as he swallowed it.  It was definitely like drinking poison.  The burn turned into a fiery sensation as it expanded throughout his body.   Merlin felt himself convulse, and as a cause and effect, it jostled the wound on his abdomen.

But Merlin didn’t even feel that, instead it was the fiery sensation that overwhelmed him.  So much that Merlin couldn’t hold back the agonizing pain he was experiencing.  His scream echoed through the Crypt, with only the dead as the audience to his cry.  The small fire that had lit the Crypt for Merlin flickered out just as the young Warlock fell silent and his body went deathly still.  Darkness encompassed the Crypt like the tomb that it was meant to be and with it, a new unwilling guest.


	5. A Perilous Journey

**Gwaine**

Gwaine settled on his horse, and while he usually had many things to grumble about, his that day was simplyl somber.  They’d lost two of the Knights.  One had been killed by a group of wild wrags in the woods.  Gwaine and rushed to save the Sir Miles, but it had been too late.  The man was gone, his eyes were wide and unseeing.  The creatures had tore through the chainmail without any trouble, its claws had sank into the Knight, ripped and torn through the man’s flesh like butter.  Gwaine’s only solace was that he hoped that the man had died quickly.

Gwaine had closed the man’s eyes, repulsion and anger in him as he went after the beasts himself.  Slaying the creatures had given Gwaine no satisfaction.  Nothing could bring back his comrade.  And while Gwaine had grieved for the loss of Sir Miles, he had also grieved for another Knight fell; Sir Alric.  A good man, great drinking mate and one that tolerated well for all Gwaine’s grumbling and sometimes not so great jokes.

The Knight had been killed on their exiting of the underground cave.  His body, Gwaine’s eyes burned at the thought, couldn’t even be recovered.  It was buried under rubble in the cave.  A trap that had been laid for any intruders planning to leave the burial grounds where the infamous Gauntlet was located.

Gwaine tasted a deep bitterness in all of it.  But while he was angry about what happened to the Knights, he could see Sir Leon was more than that, he was dispirited. Gwaine knew the two Knights on a comrades’ level, but he Sir Leon likely knew them since their youths.  They were good Knights, both were young with a strong head on their shoulders.  And while dying to protect the King or that of Camelot was honorable, to die stealing something that held no value to the King aside as being a trophy, that was wrong on so many fronts.

“Mate, you alright?”  It wasn’t really a question, more of a concerned comrade trying to make conversation of what seemed like a very quiet return journey.

The man looked as he didn’t want to answer, but he did in the end, “I am well, Gwaine.  Thank you for asking.”

So cordial.  But that was the way Sir Leon was.  A very proper Knight and deeply loyal to Arthur.  Yet with the grim expression that he held on his face, Gwaine wondered if his friend was questioning his King.

Gwaine knew it was definitely going to be a long and silent trek back, and he didn’t mind it.  There were a lot of things on his mind.

The Knight riding behind him, Sir Lucas called out that it was near nightfall, they should find a place to make camp.  Gwaine didn’t argue with him, they did need to rest, despite every part of Gwaine wanted to rush back to Camelot.  Besides that, Sir Lucas had injured his arm, he was likely drained from the long ride.  

 

Even as Gwaine settled on an area to camp for the night, he felt a terrible unease that something was wrong back in Camelot.  Despite having already made haste already, cutting the true time of the journey to be half the expected duration, Gwaine felt they _needed_ to get back today if it were even possible.  But that, was of course, a foolhardy thought.  Not only did they need rest, but the horses could use some as well.  

They found a good area to make camp, enough trees to give them coverage and grass for the horses to feed from.  Sir Leon returned with dry firewood and with a flint, started a nice roaring fire.  While there should have been merriment and banter (and grumbling) among the Knights, there was none of that except the crackling of the fire and the soft sound of Leon debarking a small branch.

Oddly, Gwaine’s mind drifted to his friend Lancelot.

Gwaine knew him only for a short while, but even in that time, he liked the man and admired his strength and tenacity to stand up to what was right.  It saddened Gwaine to learn of his friend’s death.  The Veil.   The Knight had walked into the Veil to save Arthur and the rest of Camelot.  But before that, he had somehow saved Merlin.

Merlin.  Gwaine did not know why he felt such worry for his friend.  No matter what, Arthur would never imagine to harm Merlin.  And if anything, Gaius, Merlin’s mentor and the Court Physician would protect the young man.  But why… why did he have this nagging feeling on his mind that his friend was in trouble?

His mind swirling with worries, Gwaine knew he would not be able to sleep tonight.  He called for first watch and he sat there, his eyes glanced up to the moon and the stars that was so alit it seemed to beam down at Gwaine.

Gwaine felt comfort under the stars.  He had lived like this for a number of years.  It was calming and it didn’t have the rules or restraints of having an authority pull his strings.  While under Arthur’s rule and being a Knight of Camelot had given him a new path to pave, the recent change in the King had made Gwaine start to doubt his role and his loyalty to the Crown.

Did he truly want to serve under a man who could very well be a mirror of Uther, but only it was hidden away under a mask?  Yet Arthur had more than one occasion proved himself to be a great leader, even willing to die to save his people.  He didn’t shudder away or hide when he was forced to reckon a threat.  Arthur _had_ proved himself worthy to be a good King.  Perhaps it was simply a moment of weakness.  Everyone had them.  Gwaine certainly did – his love of a good ale.  Arthur was human.  Greed and desire were humanistic traits.  One incident should never define a man, because if it was so, Gwaine would long have been discarded as an unworthy Knight.  Yet Arthur gave him his trust.  And Merlin, Gwaine trusted in the young man who’s loyalty to Arthur was unquestionable.

Deep in his thoughts, Gwaine did not realize his shift was done until Sir Lucas tapped him on the shoulder.

Gwaine nodded his thanks, though he couldn’t truly sleep, he had to for the long journey home.  Rolling out his sleeping pad, he lay his head down and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him because in all honesty his mind had too much going through it.

Sleep did come to Gwaine.  But it was not what he expected.  Gwaine felt oddly awake in the dream, as if he were being led somewhere.  A floating blue orb glowed in front of him, beckoning him to follow.  While normally Gwaine would have not followed something that definitely looked like sorcery, there was something that compelled him to follow it.

Where ever it was leading him, it was dark and it had many winding corridors.  Gwaine felt the anxiety of the closed space.  It reminded him so much of the underground caves they had gone through.  Sir Alric. Gwaine felt tears burn in his eyes at the thought of his friend.

The blue orb flickered for a moment and disappeared.  Gwaine was met in absolute darkness.  Panic swelled in him.  Oddly it wasn’t for himself.  Something about the orb’s disappearance shook him.   Gwaine didn’t understand it, but thankfully he didn’t need to worry anymore as the blue orb suddenly appeared again.  It looked much more faded than before, but it was moving again, and it moved quicker in a sense of urgency.  Gwaine made haste to follow it, he could hear his own labored breathing as he raced through the corridors.  At last what seemed like a terribly long journey, Gwaine was met with a large stone door that sealed what looked by its etching on the stone to be a Crypt.  A Crypt in Camelot.  Gwaine stared at the words.  Eastern Crypt.  Why was he led here?  Gwaine could see the Orb sit there, floating, fading more.  Gwaine didn’t understand.  Until he shuffled backwards enough to see the light shine on the ground to where the sealed door was.  There was a pool of red.  It was dried, but it was definitely recent, the shuffle of dust had given away there was a body lain there not too long ago.

A sudden panic gripped Gwaine when he heard the call of a soft voice.  “ _Help me, Gwaine.”_

The voice was weak it could have been lost in the wind.  But the silence of the tomb helped amplify the call for aid.

Gwaine snapped his eyes wide open.

“Merlin!”

Sir Leon looked at him startled, but Gwaine had no time to waste.  Something had happened to his friend.  Something terrible.  While it could very well be a dream, Gwaine trusted his gut feeling and that his friend was in trouble and needed his help.

“Gwaine?”

“We move out now,” he said as he stood up.  He knew it was still dark and nowhere near sunrise, but Gwaine knew there was little time, if they waited any longer, it would be too late for Merlin.

Leon seemed unsure just for a moment, but he followed Gwaine’s lead and woke Sir Lucas.  The Knight rose from his slumber, though he looked as if he hadn’t slept either and merely closed his eyes for the sake of resting them.

“Sorry Mates, we need to get a move on to Camelot.  I think… I think something may have happened in Camelot.”

There were questions clearly written on Sir Leon’s face, but he didn’t ask, instead he nodded and said, “Very well, let us make haste.”

Within a few minutes, the three Knights of Camelot were saddled upon their horses and racing towards Camelot at rapid speed.

“Merlin, hang in there, mate.  We’re coming.  You have to hang on,” said Gwaine under his breath, all the while spurring his horse to go faster.


	6. The Return

**Gwaine**

They entered Camelot in stealth mode, carefully assessing the state of Camelot.  Just as Gwaine feared, there were indeed a difference - especially the number of patrols guarding the gates and the various towers.  

On their journey towards Camelot, Gwaine had updated the two knights of his suspicions.  He had held back, however, of his dream about the blue orb and the crypt.  At the moment, while that had been the prime reason for the rush back, it was something that might have been too much of a stretch for the two Knights to understand.  

As they passed through the last Gates, Gwaine and the knights ran into a servant by the name of Victor.  The man looked weary, as if worked to the bone.  His eyes, however, widened and a look of relief shown on his face when he saw them.

The servant quickly updated them of what had been going on since they had been sent out, and it confirmed Gwaine’s fear.  Arthur indeed wasn’t himself.  There was magic at work.  By whom, Gwaine could only guess.  Uther had made many enemies of the sorcery world, it was unfortunate for Arther to had to take up the mantle and deal with the aftermath.  

Victor told them that by Arthur’s orders, many of the patrols that should have been guarding the castle had been sent out on quests much like the Knights had been.  There was only four knights within the castle grounds, but they were to be sent out the next day to the Northern part of the forest on reports of bandits.  This would leave Camelot basically defenseless.

The worse of the news came to their ears, thought it was only a rumour at the moment.

“The Queen has not shown her face for several days.  There are whispers that she has perhaps … died.”

Both Gwaine’s and Sir Leon’s face fell ashen at the thought.  No.  Impossible.

There was no time to waste, thought first they needed a plan.  The King was in absolute authority.  But if they had a physician deem him unfit, they could buy some time.  They needed Gaius now.  But first, Gwaine knew he had to set his unease, the very reason why they had rushed back to Camelot in the first place.

“Where is the entrance to the Eastern Crypt?” he asked Victor.  The servant pointed to the back passageway.  “It is a very steep spiral downwards.  Not many ever go there.  Sire, is there a –“, but the man was cut off by Gwaine’s glare.

“Keep this to yourself, Victor.  You did not see us here tonight.” And then he softened his gaze slightly and said, “And thank you for updating us.”  The man nodded, relieved he was of some help to the Knights.

Gwaine turned to Sir Leon and Lucas.  “You should see Gaius, Sir Lucas.”  The man nodded adjusting his arm subconsciously.

“Where are you headed?” Asked Sir Leon seeing Gwaine start heading to the direction that Victor had pointed to.

“I’m … going to check something out on a hunch.  Leon, can you go with Sir. Lucas, and tell Gaius of our suspicions.”

Leon nodded.   “We meet at the Physician’s Quarters?”

Gwaine nodded and he made a beeline to the passageway that Victor had told him would lead to the Eastern Crypts.

It was just as in the dream, but this time he could feel the chill of the air.  So much that Gwaine could see his breath in front of him each time he breathed out.  Gwaine tried to not shiver as he ventured downwards the steep stairway.  Inwardly he prayed that what he experienced the night before, that had been all but a dream.  Riding two days straight, it had been hard, not only on them, but the horses.  Gwaine just hoped that it was the right call.  But if.. If Merlin _was_ down here... by the Gods, he prayed he was wrong then.  Best it be a terrible nightmare for all the things they had gone through the past few days.  Gripping the torchlight tighter in his hands, Gwaine moved quicker down the steps and through the winding corridors.  

At last what seemed to be like forever, the Gwaine finally was met with a large stone slab.  Etched in writing was exactly what he had seen in his dream.  It was no dream, it couldn’t have been.  There in front of the stone slab indeed was a stain of dried blood.  

Lodging his torch against a stand on the old stone walls, Gwaine gripped the side of the stone slab and pulled it to the side until the entrance way to the crypt was exposed.  In doing so, he couldn’t help but mutter how ridiculous it was to setup such an archaic sealing method.

Gwaine didn’t know what he expected, but complete darkness was one of them.

He did not expect a small flame alit at the end of the corridor.  Yet to Gwaine's worse fears, there was a body lying just by small flickering flame. Even in the barely lit tomb, Gwaine recognized the clothing from anywhere.

Grabbing the torchlight, he raced towards the unmoving body.

“Merlin!” he cried out, fear gripping him with each step.   _Come one, mate, answer me!_

“Merlin!”

When Gwaine reached him, he stood frozen, unable to move.  Merlin’s face was completely ashen.  His hands looked to be pressed against his abdomen, though now it was slack.  There was blood caked all over the hand and on the ground beneath Merlin.   If anyone had not seen the blood, they would have seen a peacefully sleeping servant boy.  

But who could ignore such a sight?  

Gwaine blinked away his tears, he didn't want to believe his friend was gone. Slowly he knelt down beside Merlin and gently lifted his head, pressing his finger against his neck for a pulse.

“Merlin, come on.  You got me here.  Or someone got me here.  You can’t be gone.  You _can’t_ go like this!”

Gwaine was panicking because no matter how hard he was trying to find a pulse, there wasn’t one.

“Merlin!”  It was misdirected anguish, but Gwaine didn’t care.  He wanted his friend alive.  He wanted to also kill the bastard who had done this to Merlin.  Cleave him in two.  Three.  Perhaps more.  Whoever had done this, not only killed Merlin, but left him to die slowly, alone in a crypt.  Cleaving suddenly became too kind.  They deserved a slower death.

“Merlin, come on mate.  Say something.  Merlin!  Merlin!”

There was no sound, just silence to Gwaine’s demand.

“Please Merlin.”  Gwaine knew he was grasping at straws.

And then suddenly, like in his dream, a faint blue orb appeared.

 _Magic_!


	7. A Glimpse of Hope

**Gwaine**

Gwaine fixed his eyes on the orb that appeared in front of him. It was just like in his dreams, but damn it to hell, this was definitely real. His eyes were drawn then to Merlin's hand, where there was an identical orb that had appeared there.

Merlin… he had magic. While Gwaine should have been more surprised, he wasn't. Gwaine always suspected that Merlin was different than any servant to Arthur and now it was simply confirmed.

It also meant that if Merlin was still able to cast this spell, he must still be alive. _But why are you so cold then?_ There was no pulse, at least none he could feel. Perhaps it was Merlin's own magic sustaining his lifeforce. Looking at the faintness of the blue orb, Gwaine realized that its dimness may be equivalent to how much longer Merlin could hold on.

The other orb seemed to start to move forward. _Merlin, you want me to follow it. Okay, lead the way_. Gwaine quickly took off his cloak and wrapped it around Merlin's thin frame and also the orb on his hand. _Let's keep your magic secret just a bit longer, mate. Hang in there, Merlin,_ he said softly as he lifted his friend up from the ground. _I'll get you to help._

Merlin was light in Gwaine's arms, and held no sign of life. It felt like a moment of deja vu when for Gwaine. He remembered how Percival had carried Merlin after the Dorocha had attacked him. How Merlin had survived... Gwaine understood now. All those that had in contact with the creature had perished immediately. Merlin had been close to death, but he hadn't died. Merlin would be okay, if he could survive something like the Dorocha, then this, this was a piece of cake. _Piece of cake, right Merlin?_ He said glancing down at his unresponsive friend. His heart beating in his chest, Gwaine quickened his steps on the stone steps leading out of the Crypt.

Gwaine had initially thought the orb would have led him to Giaus's quarters - which was silly of him since Gwaine would have done that by simple logic. So it somewhat made sense (or not) that the orb was leading him away from Camelot, and deeper into the forest to which Gwaine and the other Knights had passed through not too long ago. A part of Gwaine wanted to take Merlin to Gaius, but he trusted Merlin. Merlin must know what he was doing. Or so Gwaine hoped.

The orb's light was fading fast, Gwaine saw how quickly it was dimming each running step he took. While it was faint in the Crypt, it was barely visible now, even in the darkness that shrouded around them in the midnight forest. Gwaine had a feeling that casting the spell itself was taking the last bit of energy Merlin had.

The orb finally made a complete stop at a clearing in the forest, near a body of water. Gwaine wasn't sure what to do, but the logic part of him took over and laid Merlin on the ground. Gwaine looked around him, expecting... something but unsure of what exactly.

"Merlin, were here... What do you want me to do?"

Still on the ground beside his friend. "Merlin?"

And suddenly, the orb disappeared. Gwaine's heart dropped. No. Was his friend gone?

Instead, to Gwaine's surprise, Merlin spoke with his eyes close and in barely a whisper, " _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes."_

And then there was silence as if he had used his last breath.

"Merlin?" Gwaine questioned worriedly. "Merlin." He called again gently touching the boy's shoulders.

Silence, at least from Merlin. Minutes passed. Gwaine felt lost and he decided then for his friend, he was taking him to the royal physician. But just then, above Gwaine, he heard what sounded like something large flying overhead.

Gwaine's jaw nearly dropped as a dragon landed but a few feet from him.

"Move aside, Knight of Camelot."

_The dragon speaks!_ Gwaine stared in awe for a second before complying to the dragon's request and watched as the creature approached Merlin. The ancient creature wasted no time. It used its one front claws to pull away the cloak that Gwaine had wrapped around Merlin. The creature seemed to wince at the sight of the wound, and if not for the dire circumstances, Gwaine would have chuckled at the sight. Magical creatures like dragons were never said in Lore to be so full of expression. At the moment, however, it was no laughing matter. Gwaine watched with deep anxiety as the dragon took a deep breath and then instead of fire that came from its mouth, a blue stream of light breathed out.

_A spell then?_ Thought Gwaine. While Gwaine had only known dragon's to breathe fire and burn villages, this was indeed something different. But whatever it was doing, Gwaine prayed it to save Merlin. Gwaine let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding once the dragon's completed the spell. The creature too looked concerned, with its head almost leaning over Merlin now.

Merlin for the most part looked the same. Still ashen pale and unmoving. The dragon tried again and there was still no movement from his friend. If a dragon's magic couldn't save Merlin... then...

No wait. Something was happening. The dragon turned to Gwaine and with it... a smile on its scaled face. So _that's_ how a dragon looks like when it's happy. Gwaine had never seen a magic creature like it to smile, but it was something he was sure to remember for a long time. Turning his focus back to Merlin, he saw with awe as Merlin's ashen complexion returned to a warmer one that definitely contained life. There was even the more noticeable rise and fall of Merlin's chest that showed his breathing was normalized. To finish it off, it was seeing Merlin's sharp blue eyes open that brought Gwaine a wash of relief. His friend was alive!

"Kilgarrah," said Merlin, his voice sounded parched. The young man rose from the forest ground slowly, grimacing in pain still.

_Was the wound not healed?_ Gwaine honestly couldn't tell, there was so much blood on his existing tunic.

"Young Warlock," the Dragon with concern, "that had been very close."

"Thank you," and Merlin and to Gwaine's chargin, his friend did not check on the state of his wound. So Gwaine asked.

"Merlin, you're okay now, mate?"

And there was the smile that Gwaine knew well. Even after nearly died, the boy still didn't want anyone to worry for his health.

"As good as I can be. Thanks, Gwaine." While Merlin's words were read simply as a thanks, there was unsaid words in his friend's eyes. _Magic_. Merlin was worried about Gwaine's discover that he had it. But Gwaine's concern wasn't that. Far from it.

"Your wound, is it healed?" He probed more specifically.

It wasn't Merlin, however, that answered Gwaine's question.

"Merlin's wound, I am unfortunately unable to heal completely. The blade to which had caused the wound has been enchanted with an ancient spell of the Old Religion that I cannot break. While it is healed now, it will again reopen unless the one that wielded the blade to harm him is killed."

There was absolute silence for that moment.

Gwaine stared between the Dragon and Merlin, unsure what to say. The two were simply staring at each other.

"Okay, mates, then let's go kill whoever tried to murder Merlin." Trying to break the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Again, neither Merlin or the Dragon spoke. _Perhaps... a private conversation?_ Thought Gwaine. Awkward as it was for him to simply stand there, Gwaine didn't care at the moment. Just simply seeing his friend sit up right and talk to a dragon that was suppose to be dead... it worked for him.

It was only a mere half hour ago Merlin was lifeless like a ragdoll in his arms as he raced through the forest following a blue orb. Gwaine wanted to ask Merlin more about his magic and also why in hell was he _in_ Camelot when the practicing of Magic was prohibited and punishable by death. Worse yet, he was literally working next to the very person who could sentence him to being burned at the stake.

Gwaine shook his head. Those questions would need to wait for another time. He watched with patience as the two Magical Beings silently looked to each other. Definitely a private conversation. And… it looked to be finished. The Dragon was not happy. In fact, pretty damned furious.

Merlin smiled, "You have my permission to roast her if you're up to it."

It was a quip, but there was certain truth to his words. Who was this "her" that Merlin was referring to?

The only person that Gwaine could come up with was Morgana.

Morgause was dead. And that really left Morgana to be the only person with a great a vendetta against Arthur and Camelot.

"Be careful, young Warlock," said the Dragon. "Call upon me at your time of need. You need not fear for my well being."

"You were right about Morgana," said Merlin softly, "But I did not have the heart to hurt her then. And it was my folly that has led to this day."

"Merlin," the Dragon seemed to suddenly sound like Gaius thought Gwaine, "While I may give you the insight to what lies ahead, even I cannot control fate. It was destined that she live so far. It is not all of your doing."

Merlin looked at the Dragon, and Gwaine saw him smile, "Not all, but some. Thanks for trying to make me feel better though."

The Dragon reacted to that with what sounded like a snort, and then "Always." It then looked at Gwaine with narrowed eyes, and a more serious tone took over it, "Take care of Merlin, Knight of Camelot. He will need your _strength_ in this time of need."

Gwaine nodded, though he was taken slightly aback by the choice of the dragon's words. Especially the emphasis on _strength_. He had heard it before. On a quest with Merlin to help Arthur with a quest. A person of magic by the bridge had said, Arthur would need both Strength and Magic to complete his task.

Nevermind it all, even if the Dragon had said nothing, he was going to watch over Merlin regardless.

The dragon seemed to cast Merlin one last glance before it lifted off and glided away from them.

This night was definitely proving interesting.

"Let's get back to Camelot," said Merlin breaking Gwaine's stare at the retreating image of the magical creature.

"Alright," Though he felt reluctant instantly when he saw Merlin try to hide a wince as he took a few steps forward.

Merlin saw Gwaine's concern and shook his head, "I'm fine. Let's go."

There was that classic Merlin grin that he gave to show that he was 'fine'. Gwaine shook his head knowing full well his friend was anything but fine but he followed Merlin nevertheless. After what the dragon had said, Gwaine was even more skeptical and fearful for saving his friend. How were they to defeat an all-powerful high priestess like Morgana? But then again, Gwaine knew he shouldn't underestimate Merlin either. Especially since his friend just summoned a damn dragon to his side with a just one sentence. Things were getting much more convoluted by the minute. But at least Merlin was alive and damn it all, he had magic. _Plus one point for the good guys_. Now… to figure out what was up with Arthur, break the spell and kill the wicked witch. Sounded easy enough, but now Gwaine only hoped it really _was_ that easy.


	8. Burning the Midnight Oil

**Gwaine**

Gwaine made it back into Camelot with Merlin undetected. It seemed that Merlin was quite good with finding his way in and out of the castle without anyone seeing him. He followed Merlin's lead towards the Physician's quarters and found not only did Merlin know a lot of different routes to any one location, but he knew the schedule's of the guards as well. When they chanced upon someone unexpected, miraculously that someone would be led away from them with some noise down the hallway. A lot of things clicked in Gwaine's mind when he witnessed this.  All the times when they had been on patrol, how Merlin had miraculously come out unscathed, this was how his friend had done it.  Used his magic to trip people, knock people over.  His act of a bumbling fool for Arthur was to hide his gift.  

Gwaine wondered again, how well  _ did _ he know Merlin.  While his friend’s show of magic had shaken him slightly, he did know one thing, Merlin wasn’t like the many other magical threats they had encountered in Camelot the past few years.  He used his powers to protect those he cared about.  And right now, seeing how much determination was in Merlin’s eyes, showed Gwaine what true loyalty and friendship was.  Merlin would never turn on them.  A part of Gwaine hoped, that if somehow his friend’s magic was revealed to Arthur during this madness, the aftermath would be like Gwaine’s acceptance of it.  And not Uther’s sort of reaction...

They arrived at Physician's Quarters and found the door closed, but the shuffling of the dust that had gathered there previously indicated there was company inside.   It should be the knights, but Gwaine took no chances.  He automatically unsheathed his blade and moved in front of Merlin to open the door.  He was relieved when he was met with friendlies; Sir Leon, Sir Lucas and an unexpected company; another knight.

Gwaine nodded respectfully in greeting to the newcomer, “Sir Dominic.” 

The knight nodded in greeting as well, “Sir Gwaine.”  

Gwaine turned to ask Merlin something but found him further behind him, right by the door,.  He uttered a few words under his breath and Gwaine could feel a slight breeze in the air. .

“Just some replacement dust for the door,” Merlin said with a grin as he locked the door behind him.

_ Ah smart _ , thought Gwaine.  

Coming into view of the other Knights, it was Sir Leon who spoke first in an almost incredulous voice at Merlin’s disheveled appearance.  

“Merlin?”

“Sir Leon, Sir Lucas, Sir Dominic.” He greeted them like nothing was off, that he hadn’t just come back from death’s door.

“What… what happened to you?” asked Leon eyeing Merlin’s bloodied appearance.

“I had a bit of an encounter…” he trailed off for a moment and then worried crept into his voice, “Where’s Gaius?”

It was Sir Dominic that answered,  “Gaius was ordered by King Arthur to a neighbouring kingdom to treat a noble.  He hasn’t been here for the past week.”

While Merlin was relieved to hear that his mentor was not harmed, Gwaine couldn’t help but feel sickened by the new information.  If Merlin didn’t know that Gaius had been missing for the past week, it only meant that his friend had been in that Crypt for that same duration of time.

_ Oh Merlin _ , thought Gwaine angrily,  _ I will kill that witch for doing that to you _ .  Right now, however, Gwaine knew the priority was Arthur and Gwen.  Gwen, he truly hoped the Queen was alive and not as what the servant Victor had told them in suspicion. 

“So Morgana has had a week to jumpstart everything.  I’ve been away for a month.  Why did she wait so long?”  Merlin seemed to muse to himself.

“This is Morgana’s doing?” asked Sir Dominic.  Gwaine nodded in confirmation and looked to Merlin’s pensive face.  What was going on in that mind?

“We’re missing something. Gwaine,” Merlin turned to face him, “the quests, what did Arthur make you collect for him?”

Gwaine nodded to Sir Leon who opened a pouch and took out a set of old gauntlets.  It was old and rusted, nothing very special about them.  Merlin took the gauntlets and placed it under a candle light.   For a few minutes it was just silence as Merlin inspected the artifact, looking at every inch of it, nook and cranny, inside and out.  Merlin didn’t seem to find anything until suddenly he froze after inspecting the inner lining of the gloves.

Merlin brought the opening of the gauntlet until it was practically at the candle’s flame.  Gwaine and the other knights were curious as well, and the crowded around Merlin to see what it was that he found.  

An inscription and Druid symbols were fused into the inner metal linings of the gauntlet.  They were so small, it was easy to have missed them if you were not looking for them.  

“What does it say?” asked Gwaine who was unfamiliar with the old english text.

“Wearer be binded, wearer be whole, wearer be one.”

“Couldn’t they have just simply written it in english?” said Gwaine puzzled by the words.

Merlin smirked at that, “Would it have made any more sense if it was?”

Gwaine thought for a second and then shook his head, “No, I guess not. So... we have another enchanted relic to deal with --” and then he recieved a look from Merlin.

But Gwaine wasn’t letting this one by.  He gave back Merlin the same challenging look.   _ No way, mate, am I’m keeping this information from the others.  I know you got stabbed by an enchanted dagger and I don’t mind sharing that with the rest them that by killing the mad witch, it will save your life!  What is with this stubbornness and secrecy? _

They held that awkward stare at each other for more than a beat, making it very obvious to the other three in the room something was up.  They, however, said nothing of it.  Instead Leon pushed forward with a question, “So, what do we do?  Morgana obviously has a plan, but what is it?”

“Percival and Elyan were sent to retrieve some ancient armour from these towers in Lots Kingdom,” said Sir Dominic. 

“Do you know the name of the owner of the armour?” asked Merlin, with a definite look of relief on his face for the change of topic.  

“I don’t I’m afraid.  I only knew that it was in Lots Kingdom because Percival spoke of the dangerous journey ahead for them.”

“Does Gaius have any old books that speak of enchanted relics?” Asked Gwaine, though his mind was still on Merlin’s reaction to sharing the information about his injury.

Merlin, however, was already one step ahead, pulling out a number of large dusty old books.  

“We’ll have to sift through a few books to figure it out, I’m afraid.”

Gwaine looked to his fellow knights, “Looks like we’re going to be burning the midnight oil.” 

The men nodded and each took books that Merlin handed to them as well as a copy of the puzzling inscription within the gauntlet as a reference point.  

“Merlin,” Gwaine started, “Maybe you want to take a break?  Rest a little?”   _ Take the hint, Merlin.  The others don’t know what you went through, but I do. _ ”

“I’ll be okay Gwaine.  Really,” he added with sincerity and there was a look of thanks for his concern.   _ Fine _ , he thought,  _ I’ll take what I can. _

“Just be sure to rest if you need to.”

The younger man nodded.  “I will,” Merlin said softly and started to flip through his first of many textbooks.

***

Hours seemed to roll by for Gwaine, and each time he took a breather, he checked on Merlin and his condition.  The dragon’s warning about the wound was still fresh on his mind.  So far, however, Merlin seemed to be alert.  But Gwaine knew that it was due to the circumstances they were in and adrenaline had a big part to play in it too.  Who could possibly be functioning properly after spending a week with an injury like Merlin’s and be fine? While Gwaine could see his friend was no longer ash white, he was still terribly pale, so much that in the dim lighting, he could see the dark shadows underneath his friend’s eyes.  Merlin’s face was even thinner than before, making his already small frame even smaller.   _ Well, it’s not like he had an abundance of food down in the crypt, Gwaine _ , he chided himself for thinking so foolishly.  Already there were eight stacks of books beside Merlin that the younger man had gone through, and he showed no signs of stopping.  His friend was so focused that he’d not even taken into account that his hands were shaking slightly each time he turned the pages.

Making up his mind, Gwaine announced to the others he was going to take a break and make something for them to eat.  Merlin said his thanks without looking up, but the other knights paused for longer.  Sir Leon in fact offered to help but Gwaine waved him off.  It was important that they kept at it, Gwaine could handle something as simple as making porridge.  At the mention of porridge, however, Sir Lucas grimaced just for an instant, but quickly shifted his eyes back to the books, afraid to meet Gwaine’s eyes.

On a normal day, Gwaine would have joking challenged the younger man, but he let it go this time around.  His cooking wasn’t  _ the _ best, but it was porridge.  Easy peasy.  How bad could it possibly turn out?

Really bad Gwaine supposed.  He was nonplussed at his fellow knight’s response to his food.  Leon had his fake, “this is good” look on his face, all the while looking quite green.  Sir Lucas took the smallest bites of it.  Sir Dominic simply wrinkled his nose at the food for a moment and then went back to searching through his textbook.  For Merlin, however...he ate it without any reservations.  Not that he was gobbling it down like a starved person, but he ate it, spoonful by spoonful until the wooden bowl was completely empty.  Even Gwaine himself couldn’t bring himself to eat the rest of porridge of his bowl after taking one bite.

“Merlin, want some more?” He asked with his brows slightly raised.

The young man nodded without looking up, “Yes, please.  Tastes great.”

_ Was Gaius a really bad cook too, or did Merlin just not care what he was eating?   _ “Okay, mate,” said Gwaine.  He then looked to the other Knights to give them affirmation that the meal was a success.  “See, it’s not that bad.”

“How come you’re not eating it, Gwaine?” asked Sir Lucas.

“I had... a bit.  And besides, I’m saving more for Merlin.  He wants a second helping,” replied Gwaine with a grin.  At the corner of his eye, he saw Sir Dominic twitch at his remark.

“Is Merlin okay?” asked Leon said softly coming to Gwaine’s side.  He was looking at their young friend with deep concern.  

“He’s ... recovering.”  What was Gwaine to say? That Merlin was okay now but possibly not later? Gwaine remembered the look that Merlin had given him.  Merlin had wanted to keep what had happened to him quiet.   _ But why, Merlin.  Why keep this from the others? _  Gwaine did not understand it.  But he would do as Merlin asked for the time being.  His friend was dealing with enough already, adding this additional worry would only derail them from their goal.  But if Merlin started failing, Gwaine knew he would change his tune.  

The knights returned to their respective textbooks and worked in silence.  It was not until nearly sunrise when Merlin spoke the words that were like music to Gwaine’s ears.

“Guys, I think I’ve found something.”

_ Finally, some answers!  _ Thought Gwaine with relief as he and the other knights made their way to Merlin’s side.


	9. To Fight the Good Fight

**Arthur**

Arthur was a man of action.  He hadn’t lied when he told Merlin that he’d been trained to kill at the age of ten.  To be a future King, you didn’t sit around waiting like a damsel in distress.  You took the helm and you fought for your life.  And Arthur had followed that motto all his life.  This situation was no different. He’d fought.  He screamed.  He’d even clawed with his invisible hands at trying to regain control over his body.  But none had any resolution.  He was very much trapped within himself.  That, however, did not mean he was going to give up.

Arthur was never going to give up.  He had to make Morgana pay for all the things she had done and was still doing.  Whatever spell she had casted upon Gwen was making her suffer painful convulsions.  When she wasn’t moaning in agony, Gwen simply laid catatonic, in a deep sleep beside him on the bed.  It was painful to witness let alone be unable to do anything to help.

And Merlin...  By the Gods how much Arthur wanted to wipe the memory of that day away.  The imagery of Merlin lying still in a pool of blood in front of him, it haunted him each day.  Seeing Morgana’s smug face each night made Arthur only want to strike her down even more.   He had to make Morgana pay for all she had done. To Merlin.  To Gwen.  And to all his royal subjects as well.  Reports had come in with results of the quests he’d sent his men on; dozens of good men perished.  Morale was running low within the walls of Camelot and whispers in the hallways that Arthur was ruling with an iron fist of dictatorship - not so much different from Uther himself.

Arthur kept careful watch of Morgana each night she appeared in his and Gwen’s chambers, casting her spells.  Initially Morgana had seemed fine after each enchantment, but he had noticed recently that it was no longer the case.  While there were more silver streaks appearing on her head, it was her weary movements afterwards that interested Arthur.  After each spell she needed a longer recovery time.  The wearier she got, Arthur noticed, the sloppier she had become as well.

Although Arthur had wished she would be foolish enough to simply walk into some guards, she hadn’t. _Wishful thinking indeed._ But she did however leave her spell book sitting wide open in Arthur’s chambers.  Arthur knew that was his chance to break off being Morgana’s puppet King.  If he could figure out what spell it was that she had on them, then there was a chance of thwarting Morgana’s plans.  First, however, he needed to have some control over himself.

During the daytime, Arthur practiced on the smallest movements, anything for him to have his own choice, even a beverage other than wine would have been nice.

For the first three days, there was no change; Arthur could only follow the orders that Morgana instructed.  It was however on the fourth day that he finally made some headway:  he managed to stop himself from signing a document.  The irony of the document in question was a decree that Morgana had desired the most; Magic to be free reign in Camelot.

While Arthur had nothing against magic like his father had, this was something that Morgana held dear to her heart.   _You harm those that I care about, then I will not give you that freedom you so desire.  The freedom you gain from the lives of others._  The document was dated back a month ago, it was in fact the very first decree that Arthur had written.  It had gone through several revisions from councilmen as well as advisory content being sent forth to the other five kingdoms that a change was happening in Camelot.

Even Arthur had to admit, Morgana had been very smart in how she went about getting the law approved, very subtle.  But Arthur wasn’t going to let her win this one.  With all his will-power he then forced his hands to move the document to the discard stack.   _Yes.  Unsigned and discarded._  It was a small success, but Arthur was willing to take any win at that point.

That had been three days ago.  Progression had been slow with catching a sneak peak at the spell book, but the night previously had been the most productive.  It was also the first time that Morgana had not appeared.  Arthur hoped something terrible had befallen her at first, but then disregarded that possibility since he was still under the spell, it meant the witch was very much alive.

Arthur had moved himself to stand in front of the spellbook.  Which spell it was, Arthur wasn’t sure, but it was either the one that was cast on Arthur or the one on Gwen.  Either one worked for him, though he’d hoped it was for Gwen.  He wanted to release her from whatever Morgana had done.

While Arthur had then prided himself on his success of being in control, viewing the contents of the spellbook in fact did nothing for him; it was in a foreign language.   _Well, of course, it’s a magical book of spells, obviously it wouldn’t be in plain English_.  Doing his best, Arthur had memorized the symbols.

Today, Arthur was going to make his move.  It seemed Morgana’s absence in maintaining the spell carried forward another unexpected advantage, a wider window for him to focus his writing.  With deep focus and will-power, he gained control of hands for that instant.  Quickly he jotted the symbols he had memorized the night before on the back of an order document he had signed.  The last thing he managed to write on it was “Help” before he lost control once again. _So close._  Now Arthur just had to somehow pass it to one of his knights.

As if on cue, the throne room suddenly opened and the guards presented Gwaine and Sir Leon’s arrival.

Both men looked exhausted, dark circles under their eyes as if they had not slept for days.

“Report,” commanded Arthur.  Inwardly, he cringed on how cold he must have sounded.

“Sire,” it was Sir Leon that spoke.  “We unfortunately lost three knights.  Sir Miles, Sir Alric, Sir Luc—“

“Did you retrieve the artifact?”  Interrupted Arthur cooly.  If Arthur could show his shame, he would have a thousand times over.  What ruler would disregard lives like that? _But it’s not my doing!_ He thought frustratedly.   _But they don’t know that, do they?_

Sir Leon was taken aback by his interruption, but he nodded, “Yes, Sire,” and retrieved from his pouch a pair of gauntlets.

Arthur felt his face widen to a smile.  “Well done!”  He took the gauntlets from Leon and inspected them.  “Well done indeed.”

Arthur could see nothing but the two gloves in hands for the next minute before he finally looked up to two awaiting knights, “You are both dismissed.”

Sir Leon nodded, though there was a note of concern on his face.  Gwaine, on the other hand, had anger etched all over his face.  Of course he would be furious with him, thought Arthur.  He’d just brushed off three knights of Camelot’s lives like they meant nothing.

“Ah, Gwaine, wait one moment.” Arthur felt himself walk over to the side of his throne chair for a document.   _Oh.  Yes!_  If Arthur could have cheered, he would have been leaping through the air.  That document order he’d written the symbols on, it had been for Gwaine!   _Yes, things were finally going right.  Take that, Morgana!_

The Knight took the order from him, though the scowl was clearly on his face the entire time.  The scowl turned cold when he read the document.  Arthur inwardly groaned when Gwaine crumpled the paper.   _No!! No no, read the back, damn it!  Don’t.. Don’t tear it up, Gwaine!_  He was feeling the panic.  He was so close.  

Arthur knew that most knights would never dare be so insolent in front of a King.  But Gwaine, he was a different sort of knight, one that wasn’t afraid to challenge him.  Arthur appreciated that to no end, just as he did with Merlin - though he would never say it to their faces.  This time, however, Arthur wished that Gwaine would hold his temper and not rip the damn document with his message for help.  His heart beating loudly in his chest and his focus entirely on the paper in his friend’s hand, he was barely listening to Gwaine’s rant.

“Arthur, this is ridiculous.  There are not enough knights or spare guards to patrol this area!  There’s already not enough people guarding the city gates!”

“Are you challenging my command?”

Gwaine looked as if he were about to argue more, but thankfully Sir Leon stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.   _Thank you,_ thought Arthur seeing the other knight calm Gwaine down.   _Don’t make a scene.  Just take the note, leave, and read it!_ Though it was more along the lines of find someone who _could_ read it.

“No, Sire,” was the begrudging reply from Gwaine after a moment.  As if eyes could breathe fire, thought Arthur, looking at Gwaine’s anguished expression.

“Sire, we will take our leave?” asked Sir Leon respectfully, his hand still planted firmly on his fellow knight’s shoulder.

Arthur felt himself nod in response and waved them away in dismissal.  “You may.”

As the two knights retreated from the throne room, Arthur prayed that they would read what he had written and find a way to break whatever enchantment that had befallen him and Gwen.   _Otherwise, may the Gods help us all if Morgana succeeds in her plans._


	10. Plans and Complications

**Gwaine**

“How did I do?” He asked Leon as they made their way back quietly to Gaius’s chambers.

“You acted exactly like you normally do,” was Leon’s reply which earned him a huge grin from Gwaine.

“Really? Well then, I guess I’ve got enough talent to join a trope.”

Leon snorted at his comment.  “You do that, Gwaine.” 

Gwaine shrugged off Leon’s response with a smile.  For the first time in a while, Gwaine actually felt somewhat of a relief.  It was true that they hadn’t actually  _ done _ anything yet, but the fact that they had a plan of action made him feel more in control.  He was reminded again how much he hated being anchored down by rules and authority.  Perhaps he would take a break after everything was over. 

They arrived at Gaius’s chambers without incident, Leon entering first and Gwaine locking the door behind him.  He couldn’t help but smile when he saw new dust miraculously appear at the doorstep the moment the two knights had stepped into the room.   _ Merlin, you clever mate!  Here I’d thought that was a onetime spell. _

Speaking of his friend, Gwaine actually wanted to check up on him.  The last he had seen of his friend was him looking utterly spent.  It had to do with the last spell Merlin had casted on the gauntlets.  After reading the passage he had found about the artifacts, Merlin had grown silent.  There had been a pensive look across his young friend’s face and he told them he had a set a gauntlets in his quarters he could switch them over with.

Gwaine knew it had to more than that, however.  Morgana would easily see through a simple switch of an enchanted set of gauntlets versus an old pair.  Gwaine had followed Merlin to his room and saw him cast some sort of spell on a spare pair of gauntlets.  He had wondered initially why his friend would even  _ have _ Arthur’s armour with him, and he’d realized there two sets sitting by the side of the door.  Clearly Arthur liked his armour nice and shiney.  

He’d watched Merlin finish the spell and then suddenly collapse to the ground.  Gwaine rushed to his side immediately, and all the while Merlin kept saying that he was fine.  His friend was so not fine, and Gwaine stated as such.

_ “Merlin, you are not fine.  Stop saying that you are.” _

_ “I am right now,” Merlin insisted as Gwaine helped him to the side of his bed. _

_ “But you won’t be.  The dragon said –“ _

_ “I know what the dragon said.  I’ll be fine until then.” _

_ “Until what, your wound rips through you a second time?” Gwaine narrowed his eyes at Merlin as he eyed the bloody tunic he still wore.  “Why won’t you tell the others?  If Morgana did this to you, they’d bloody do their best to kill her.  It’s not like they wouldn’t do it already, but if it means to save your life, we would put all our lives to help you.”  Gwaine had softened his voice near the end.  He didn’t want to sound angry, he was just concerned for Merlin’s well being. _

_ “I know you would, Gwaine.” There was something in Merlin’s eyes that said he understood they would do anything to save him but that they wouldn’t be able to, not this time.  “It won’t work that way.  I will find another way.” _

_ Gwaine had looked at his friend then.  No. He wasn’t letting this go. _

_ “Merlin, I would crush that witch a thousand times over, no hesitation.  You don’t need any other way.”  His eyes narrowed at Merlin’s lack of response to his words. _

_ “What aren’t you telling me, Merlin?” _

_ Merlin avoided his eyes for a moment and then he seemed to make a decision then. _

_ “Morgana wasn’t the one that stabbed me, Gwaine.” _

_ It only took a moment for Merlin’s words to sink in.  Of course.  Stupid him.  Why would Morgana due the deed herself.  She’d much enjoy it more if it had been… Arthur to wield the blade.  Then that meant…  seriously, Morgana had outdone herself this time.  _

_ “Morgana, does she knows of your magic?” _

_ Merlin shook his head, “I don’t think so.  Not yet.  But I’m sure if I see her face-to-face again, she will know.” _

_ “Then how did she… decide to use an enchanted dagger on you?” _

_ “I think it’s just coincidence, Gwaine.” _

_ At that Gwaine had simply stared at his friend.  “What do you mean?” _

_ “The dagger was an old birthday gift from Arthur.  I don’t even think she knows it’s enchanted.” _

_ “That’s just...” _

_ “Yeah.” Merlin agreed before Gwaine finished his sentence. _

_ “Damn.” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ Silence. _

_ “We should bind your injury, Merlin,” said Gwaine, breaking the quiet.  He half expected his friend to protest, but Merlin nodded in agreement instead. _

_ “Will you help me?” _

_ Wow.  Merlin must have been in bad shape to ask for help without even giving Gwaine the chance to offer it.  At least his friend was admitting he wasn’t well. _

_ “Of course.” _

_ “There are bandages are outside, by the left shelf – facing the door’s left, Gwaine.” _

_ “Ha. Got it.”  _

_ “Gaius also has some healing paste in a tube like container.  It’s small, greenish in appearance and has a blue label on it.  It’s two levels up.  You can use the footstool to reach it – hmm, maybe no footstool for you.” Realizing Gwaine’s height compared to his. _

_ “Okay,” Gwaine nodded.  “Anything else?” _

_ “That’s it.” _

_ Gwaine retrieved the items and returned quickly.   He’d received a look from Leon and a nod of understanding as well.  Leon had known Merlin was hurt, just not how badly. _

_ “Okay, here they are,” he announced as he entered Merlin’s quarters.  He noticed then that Merlin had already changed into a fresh new set of clothes.  Even added a red neckerchief to his outfit. _

_ “Thanks,” Merlin said and motioned him to unravel the roll of bandages.  Slowly Merlin raised his shirt and Gwaine had to draw back a hiss to what he saw.  It was an ugly and painful wound, even just by looking at it.  This was ‘healed’ though? There was bruising all around the wound… no  _ **_wounds_ ** _.  Merlin had been stabbed multiple times.  At the moment, they were closed lines, each about an inch long.  If Gwaine could bare to count them, there were at least six to seven… he felt sick to his stomach.  How had his friend survived through it? _

_ Gwaine dabbed the paste on the bruised areas and then wrapped the bandage tightly around Merlin’s abdominal area.  He could hear the younger man let out a slight grimace at the contact, but Gwaine didn’t have much choice in the matter.  It needed to be tight in case… in case the injury reopened again.  _

_ Once he was done he helped Merlin up and they returned to the other room where the other knights were deep in discussion.  Upon seeing them, Sir Leon updated them on what they had decided. _

_ “Gwaine, we have a preliminary plan,” said Leon.  “Sir Lucas has volunteered to be dead so he can fetch Gaius.”  Gwaine had casted an raised eyebrow at that, and Lucas’ response was, “One dead knight makes no difference to this current King.”  True. _

 

_ “Sir Dominic,” continued Leon, “will serve to be our messenger to intercept Percival and Elyan.  You and I, we will play it as if we know nothing of Morgana’s plans so we can keep eyes on the King.  We don't know what ails the King nor Queen right, so it is best if we control what we can control.” _

_ Gwaine nodded to the plan.  “Sounds Good.” Then he looked to Sir Lucas, “Are you sure you can ride with your arm like that?” _

_ “I rode two days straight to Camelot, I can handle heading to  _ _ Methor’s Kingdom.  Certainly far less dangerous than where Sir Dominic is heading.” _

_ “Will Morgana suspect that Sir Dominic is missing?” _

_ “King Arthur actually has me heading out with the last contingent of Knights to fetch some sort of Goblet in Mercia’s Kingdom.  I will simply diverge from my fellow knights and head towards the return path that I am most certain Sir Percival and Sir Elyan will take.” _

_ The plan was set.  If Gwaine did play chess, he’d have said the rooks and knights were ready to defend the King, but he didn’t.  And he wasn’t really defending the King, more like opposing him at the moment.  _

_ “We can’t allow Morgana to get her hands on the armor… but what of the gauntlets,” trailed off Sir Dominic as his gaze fell upon a pair in Merlin’s hands. _

_ Merlin passed the gauntlets to Sir Leon.  “Here, you can present Arthur with these tomorrow.” _

_ “Are you certain… he won’t recognize his own gloves?” _

_ Merlin smirked at that, “I doubt he will even question it.” _

_ At the younger man’s confidence, Sir Leon felt assured and he took the gauntlets and placed it back into his pouch. _

_ “Merlin, you should take a rest,” he said gently.  “I am uncertain what has happened to you since our absence, but you have worked hard all night.” _

_ “I will.”  Gwaine was in some sense glad his friend wasn’t arguing.  He did look more exhausted by the minute. _

_ “Alright mates, let’s get this show on the road,” clapping his hands on the shoulders of Leon and Lucas with a smile.  _

_ The Knights had left shortly after, leaving no time to waste.  Gwaine helped Merlin to his sleeping chambers. _

_ “Thanks, Gwaine.  For everything,” said Merlin once he was lying down on his bed. _

_ “Hey, don’t say it like you’re going somewhere where you shouldn’t be,” said Gwaine worriedly.  _

_ “Just take a compliment, won’t you?”  Was the joking response Merlin gave. _

_ Feeling slightly relieved, Gwaine nodded.  “Fine.  But we’re coming back to check in after we report to Arthur.” _

_ “Okay,” the response was nearly a whisper and then Merlin was fast asleep. _

_ Good.  Merlin needed it. _

_ Gwaine himself needed it too, and it took a lot to resist his urge to simply shut his eyes.  They’d ridden two days straight back to Camelot.  Adrenaline had kept him up all that time.  Now it seemed he’d hit the wall.  He’d report to Arthur and then he’d crash back here in Gaius’s chambers.  _

An hour later, Gwaine was finally going to get some sleep.  He needed, however, to do two things.  The first was to check in on Merlin.  And the second was he wanted to see what was written at the back of the order document.  Gwaine wasn’t blind, he had seen the inking of something that definitely looked like the word ‘help’ from the paper.  To keep with appearances, however, he had crumpled it in front of the King.  

Now, however, they were in the privacy of Gaius's chambers, and Gwaine could read it.  Well.  He could attempt to.  Just like the gauntlet, the paper had scrawlings of symbols Gwaine couldn’t make heads or tails of, all except the one english word on there, “Help.”

He needed Merlin. 

“Are those the same symbols from the gauntlet?” Asked Leon curiously peering over his shoulder at the note.

Gwaine nodded.  “I think so.  I am also sure this is a message from Arthur.”

Leon nodded in agreement.  He recognized the King’s writing, even if it was jittery.  It was a rather a relief that despite being controlled, the King was still fighting.  The fact he managed to get a message out spoke volumes.  There was still hope yet.

“Merlin then?” Said Leon noting that the writing wasn’t in a language he understood either.  Gwaine nodded.  As much as he didn’t wish to disturb his friend, they needed to figure out what this meant… perhaps it was the very spell that had been placed on Arthur. 

Leon softly rapped on the door to Merlin’s chambers.  There wasn’t an immediate answer which caused both knights to look to each other.  Leon tried again, and still there was no sound coming from within the room.

Gwaine made a decision then and with one quick shoulder hit to the old wooden door, it easily fell away.

_ Oops.  _ Was the first thought that went through Gwaine.   _ Maybe I should have just waited a bit. _

Merlin was sitting on the ground, very much alive, but his eyes were closed and beads of sweat on his forehead.  A large old textbook was opened in front of him.  It wouldn’t have been too startling of a scene if not for the glowing light emanating from Merlin’s hands. 

Gwaine looked to Leon’s face on his response.  Yep.  Just like his face was.    _ Magic. _

There was silence as they both watched Merlin complete whatever he was doing.  Something went wrong, however because suddenly Merlin fell forward.  Both knights moved in unison to help him back to a sitting position.

Gwaine could see droplets of red on the book.   _ Damn it! _ He hoped that Merlin’s injury wasn’t already reopening.

Quickly he signaled to Sir Leon to help him lift Merlin back to his bed.  Once the younger man was rested on the bed, he seemed to wake and realize that the two knights were there.

“Hey,” he said and then his face became serious when he cued in it was the two of them, “How did it go with Arthur?”

Gwaine honestly wanted to delay telling Merlin anything, but the recent discovery of the note was too important to ignore.  He hated to make his friend work in his present condition, but they didn’t have a choice. 

As he passed a cloth over to Leon to help wipe the blood that stained Merlin’s chin, Gwaine explained his meeting with Arthur as well as the note he had received from him.

Gwaine gave the note to Merlin, who’s eyes narrowed as he read it.  Whatever information the document contained, it must have been bad because Merlin immediately attempted to get up after he finished reading.

“Merlin, you’re not doing anything --,” he started, but the look Merlin gave him shut him up. 

“This spell, if Arthur has been under it since I’ve been away, then it won’t be long before Morgana will win,” explained Merlin as calmly as he could.  Both he and Leon could tell he was trying to hold back absolute panic.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean to say that combined with what we uncovered yesterday, it is worse than we had thought.”  Wanting to elaborate more, Merlin attempted again to rise from the bed.  This time with both Leon and his support, he was able to stand. 

“I’ll explain more once we get back to the passage I read to you guys last night.”

“You mean this one?”  Gwaine took the ripped page from his side pocket.

There was absolute mortification in Merlin’s face.  “You ripped the page from Gaius’s textbook?”

“Well, yeah.  Didn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t?  It’s important...”

If Merlin could look even more miserable at that moment, the look on his face said it all.  “Gaius is going to  _ kill  _ me if I live through this,” he muttered softly before taking the page from Gwaine’s outstretched hand and sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Gwaine.  The old man looked harmless enough and he was always so friendly.  He received a twitched reply to his comment from Merlin.  “You don’t know Gaius like I do.  His books are like his temple.”

“When you solve this and save Camelot, I’m sure he’ll easily forgive you for this,” said Sir Leon trying give some comfort to Merlin’s anxiety.

“If, you mean.”

“No, Merlin, he means,  _ when. _ ” Emphasized Gwaine.  He trusted Merlin would give them the needed advantage, no matter what condition he was in.

“So,” Gwaine drawled out the so, “how does this make things complicated than what you told us last night?”   _ Technically it was this morning, but details. _

“Much more complicated,” said Merlin looking very serious.  

_ Guess that means sleep will have to wait,  _ thought Gwaine. 


	11. The Other Gateway

**Sorry for the delay everyone!  Thanks for the reviews! Brightens my day to see them :)  Now onwards to the next chapter!**

 

**Merlin**

There was an expression Merlin knew well and that was ‘the best laid plans often go awry’.  Their plan to counter Morgana had been simple and straightforward:  Glamour the enchanted artifacts that the High Priestess intended to use on Arthur so that when she tried to bind Arthur’s soul away, nothing would happen.  With the spell that was in Merlin’s hands right now, things were much more complicated. It was no longer a case of only using Arthur as a puppet, Morgana intended on freeing something from the Spirit World to do her bidding as well.  How Morgana intended to control such a formidable force, Merlin wasn’t sure, but it would bid dark times ahead for Camelot and its citizens.

Merlin saw Gwaine’s expectant expression.  He was waiting for Merlin to tell him what had spooked him so badly.  Forcing himself to be calm, Merlin relayed his misgivings based on the new information.  

“I was wrong about Arthur being the soul to be bound away.  I think the target for that might be for someone else, perhaps the Queen. This spell...to explain it better, I will need to show you something from Gaius’s study.”

Gwaine nodded and helped Merlin to the next room, with Leon following in tow.  There Merlin instructed them to fetch a book from a hidden compartment underneath the floorboards of one of Gaius’s potion desks.

As the two knights knelt down to lift the floorboards, Merlin could not help but notice Leon’s side glances at him, despite trying to not make it obvious.  Merlin had not expected the two knights to burst into the room, let alone to have Leon see him in the midst of casting a spell.  But what was done was done, there was no way to undo it.  Merlin thought though, perhaps, he was being self-conscious about it.  Maybe Leon wasn’t casting him strange looks and it was in his mind only.   _ Living in fear could do that to a person, and before you know it, it’s the only way you know how to live,  _ Merlin thought grimly to himself.  _ And also, not everyone took to discovering such a grand secret so easily as Gwaine. _

In truth, to Merlin, Gwaine’s forthright acceptance of his magic had been a great relief.  While he had always innately trusted the knight, he had never expected to feel so unjudged by the man.  Gwaine readily took in this new secret of Merlin’s with no hitch in stride, just as Lancelot in the past had.   

When Merlin had lain there in the crypt surrounded by near darkness with only a small flicker of fire for company, he had felt completely helpless and unsure on who he could reach out to for aid.  While his first two thoughts were of the dragon and mentor, he knew he could not risk either of them.  Merlin had pictured the dragon tearing through Camelot and picking him up and had decided against the idea.  It would expose not only of Merlin’s connection to magic, but paint a deadly target on the old Dragon.  

Kilgharrah was not as strong as he used to be.  The dragon was weakening, and the last time he had seen him, one of his wings had been bent.  The creature had acknowledged that he was indeed fading, as all must come to an end, even he, a magical being of the Old Religion.  Merlin knew in his heart that all things came to an end, but he never expected or thought that Kilgharrah could pass before Merlin himself.  Since then, he had avoided calling the dragon unless he was in dire need. 

Gaius was the other option, but Merlin decided at the last moment not to call for his mentor.  Seeing how dangerous Morgana was, he would not have Gaius experience her wrath.  

The only other person Merlin could think of to trust was Gwaine.  Merlin, however, did not know that the knight wasn’t in Camelot.  So when Gwaine hadn’t come after he’d sent the vision, Merlin had thought his friend ignored it out of fear or worse yet, had thought it to be a mere nightmare.  Merlin hadn’t strength to send it out again to make Gwaine see that it wasn’t a dream.  Merlin tried to instead reserve his strength and the hope that his friend would trust the vision to be real the first time around.

Merlin had felt Gwaine’s presence in the crypt when he’d arrived.  But at that point, he’d been past the breaking point.  He’d used his magic to heal himself once he had neutralized the poison in his system, but in his weakened state, there was only so much energy he could expend.  Thankfully his innate magic had saved him at his most dire time of need.  Gaius had said he had conjured up the blue orb before, back when he’d drank a poisoned chalice to save Arthur.  Merlin had felt the light heat of the orb and the floating words of encouragement from the knight to hang on.

The rest had been a blur until he opened his eyes to face Kilgharrah.  Oh the dragon was so not happy, especially delivering the news that Merlin’s wound was something that he could not heal.  They had continued the conversation telepathically, something to which Merlin felt bad to exclude Gwaine, but he’d decided it then best not to burden his friend with anymore than he had to.  

The two knights placed a dusty old textbook on the table in front of Merlin in a thump which drew him out from his reverie.  Immediately Merlin went to look for the spell’s reference page.  As he searched, a part of him hoped he was wrong about what he read in Arthur’s note.  When Lancelot had sacrificed himself to the Veil to save them - though, Merlin knew in truth, Lancelot had died to save  _ him _ , his first task upon returning to Camelot was to find a way to bring his friend back.  Frustrated to no end, Merlin had finally gone to Gaius to ask him directly for any spells or enchantments to bring his friend back.  His mentor had shaken his head and directed him instead to the very book that he was flipping through in the present.  

Gaius had then told him, that for the dead to live again as whole, there was always a steep price for payment.  The hopeful part of Merlin made him go through the book bit by bit, searching for anything at all to shed light on a way to bring a life back.  It was only until he had completed reading through the old text that he understood what Gaius had meant.  If he wanted to bring anyone he cared about back, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot, Will, there had to be an equal price to pay, a soul for a soul.

“This is the Hallows,” Merlin said when he finally found the page he was looking for.  His index finger overlayed an old black and white sketch of a large lake in a darkened forest.  There were however no distinguishing landscape to say exactly where the Hallows was located.  

The two knights peered at the drawing with curiosity but unsure of its importance.  

“Okay, the Hallows,” said Gwaine, “I take it, that’s a bad place?”

“It’s one of the five gateways that separate the living from the world of the dead.  While the Pool of Nemhain is the last known accessible gateway, this spell,” Merlin gestured to Arthur’s note that lay on the table, “is like a backdoor key to the Hallows.”

“So what is the spell doing?” Asked Leon, his eyes narrowing as he stared unrecognizable language on the pages in front of him.

“It is slowly stealing away Arthur’s life, specifically, his soul,” said Merlin grimly.

The two knights stared at him in silence for a moment.

“Elaborate, Merlin, don’t keep us in suspense,” said Gwaine, knowing he really didn’t  _ want _ to know.

“The spell calls to the gatekeeper of the Hallows,” continued Merlin.

“So is this gatekeeper like that old woman that tried to take Arthur’s life at the Veil?”

Merlin nodded, “Yes, similar.  According to the text, this Keeper of the Hallows,had offended the Triple Goddess for taking a soul it should not have.  As punishment, she had the Disir – Soothsayers to the Goddess – pass judgement and close the gateway, and with it, the gatekeeper as well.

“I take it the keeper must not be very happy with the demotion,” quipped Gwaine

“I highly doubt being trapped with the very souls you used to guard would make anyone a happy camper,” agreed Merlin.

“So Morgana plans to trade off Arthur’s sould to release this thing so that it can destroy Camelot?  I thought she wanted to rule it?” asked Gwaine perplexedly.

“I think she means to use it somehow.”

“She wants to control a Gatekeeper?  The last one we encountered was pretty strong, she knocked me out cold like that!”

_ I could knock you out cold like that too Gwaine _ , thought Merlin ruefully, but instead he said, “Morgana may also have searched for a way to reach this gatekeeper to retrieve Morgause’s soul and struck a deal with it - Arthur being the bait.”

“Why this gatekeeper... why not another?” 

“The others have no need to listen to Morgana’s bidding.  And to maintain form in the living world, the gatekeeper without its blessing from the Triple Goddess, will need other forms of sustenance.”

“Are you sure that the Gatekeeper plans to possess Arthur’s body?” asked Leon still not wanting to believe that his King was in such a dire situation.

Merlin shook his head, “No, I am certain that the spell is not for possession.  Each day the spell has been placed on Arthur, his life force, soul, has been slowly fed to the Gateway Keeper.  When it is complete, the Keeper will be freed from the prison of the Hallows and Arthur’s soul will be trapped within the Hallows in its stead.  The body of Arthur would remain here as an empty shell, easily controlled by Morgana or Morgause.”

“Excuse me for playing devil’s advocate here,” said Gwaine, “but why not just do it instantly?  Why this slow progression?  If I wanted to return to life, I wouldn’t want to wait so long.”

“The spell  _ should  _ be instant,” said Merlin in agreement, “But it is likely Morgana doesn’t have the power to maintain the spell for a long duration.  It is an extremely complicated spell.”   _ Explains the streaks of white hair I saw on her while I lay dying in the throne room. _

“So if I’m getting this correctly, we’re facing a triple threat here, Arthur is dying, Morgause is returning to rule as Gwen, and there’s going to be some all powerful Gatekeeper as Morgana’s pet?” said Gwaine looking at Merlin with his lips pursed in a frown.

“Yes, something like that,” answered Merlin. 

“This is.. This is madness,” exclaimed Leon in disbelief.  “The King, are you certain the spell is killing him? When Gwaine and I saw him this morning, he was fine.  He looked in perfect health.  If anything, he was just enchanted by a spell.”

“His physical body remains unharmed, but whatever makes Arthur  _ Arthur  _ will be gone.”

Merlin could see a sliver of doubt in Leon’s eyes.  The earlier feeling he had felt from the knight returned; distrust and suspicion because he had magic. 

“I trust Merlin’s judgment on this, Leon.  He’s been watching over the King long before I’ve arrived.  So far he’s been doing well, and it’s all due to Merlin, here,” Gwaine said, laying a hand firmly on Merlin’s shoulders.

_ Thanks, Gawine _ , Merlin silently thanked the Knight’s support.

Leon nodded, though Merlin could see it was by courtesy to Gwaine and no more than that.

“So now what should we do about this?” asked Leon.

“We need to reverse the link.  Breaking the spell is not an option.  I... Gwaine, I will need to speak with Kilgharrah tonight.  Will you accompany me?”

Gwaine nodded but said no more.  Instead, the man’s eyes were fixed on Sir Leon.  Merlin knew that his friend was taking offense to Leon’s behavior in trusting Merlin because of discovering he had magic.  But Merlin understood.  This was the very thing he feared he would see in Arthur’s eyes if he ever found out the truth; doubt, mistrust, outsider.

All this, however seemed minor in the grand scheme; the death of the king, the return of Morgause, and a rogue gatekeeper.  They just needed to work together until they removed the threat.  And then.. And then they would figure out what needed to be done.  Merlin truly hoped it didn’t end up with him being put on a pyre.  

“What should I be doing then?” Asked Leon being more specific.  His eyes however only met Gwaine’s with the question.

“What we had planned before, keep an eye on Arthur,” Gwaine said firmly as he glanced over at Merlin for confirmation.

The Knight nodded, then turned to leave, but Gwaine’s voice stopped him.

“Leon… what you saw in Merlin’s chambers… the magic… please keep it to yourself.  Will you, mate?”

While it was phrased like a question, its hidden meaning was clear.

There was a pause before the Knight answered. “Very well.”  And he left without another word.

There was silence as the door shut to Gaius’s chambers.

“Don’t mind Leon, he just needs a bit of time to digest everything.  And I mean everything we discovered today, it’s hard to take in.  Right?” 

_ Ah, Gwaine, ever the one to try to diffuse the tension. _

Merlin smiled at his friend, “Yeah, it is a lot to take in.”

“So now what should we do?  There’s a few hours before sundown... anything in these books that can help us you know, try to fend off that dagger’s powers?”

Merlin looked at Gwaine in surprise, he’d fully expected his friend to be thinking about the latest threat.

As if reading his mind, the man snorted, “If you collapse, I don’t think we stand much of a chance, Merlin.  So let’s look after you first, right?”

Merlin grinned, “Makes sense.”

“So, you were trying a healing spell earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t work?”

“Not really.”

“How bad is it? Has it reopened?” He asked in concern.

“Not yet, but it’s starting to become very painful.”

“Anything here,” Gwaine gestured around the bookshelves full of potions and herbs, “that can help you manage the pain?”

“I’ve tried a few already, but nothing has worked so far.”

“Gaius will be back soon.  Sir Lucas set out this morning, he should be back by midday tomorrow,” said Gwaine in hopes of bringing Merlin’s spirits up.

Merlin nodded.  “Gaius will know more on what we can do about my injury.” Gwaine looked like he wanted to argue with Merlin, but he shook his head, “We need to prepare some counter strategies.  I need to work on learning a few new spells before we see Kilgharrah.”

“I noticed you kept the fact that Kilgharrah is a dragon from Leon,” said Gwaine with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“I think Leon would not take too kindly to that information,” said Merlin softly as he tried to rise from his seated position.  Gwaine moved to help him up and he could all but bite back a hiss of pain as he stood up.

“I released Kilgharrah from the dungeons below a few years ago,” he said swallowing thickly in remembering the number of lives that had been lost to what he had done.  It didn’t make up for saving Camelot from the knights of Medhir only to have hundreds of people killed by the dragon’s rage.

“You released the dragon, that’s good.  He’s saved you --,”

“He also took his rage of being imprisoned within Camelot’s caves upon its citizens,” Merlin couldn’t say it without feeling the regret. 

“I see,” said Gwaine softly in understanding.

Merlin had wished he could have foreseen the dragon’s rage before he had freed him.  He’d also wished that his first meeting with his father would not have been his last.  But perhaps it was retribution - his one father for the lives of so many he had let die.  So many had died during the dragon’s release.  Not only was Merlin responsible for that, but for Morgana... it was also his fault.  He had much to blame for everything.  Had he allowed Morgana die that time she had fallen, Merlin could have prevented so many more deaths.  But he hadn’t.  He couldn’t.  It had been his choice, a path that he had set and it was a path he now had the responsibility to tread.  For Arthur.. Gwen.. Gaius... the Knights... Camelot.  The burden on his shoulders suddenly felt very heavy.  The weight was crushing and it was suddenly hard to breathe.  

“You alright?”

Merlin blinked at Gwaine.  Had he fazed out again?  He was doing that far too often he realized.  It wasn’t a good sign.

“I’m alright.  Just a lot of things on my mind.”

“Oh I’m sure. Okay, tell me, what books do you need?”

“The book that was in my chambers, this one and maybe that small one over there,” pointed Merlin to a small gray notebook sitting on a stool.

Though Merlin told Gwaine he intended on healing himself, he’d already known the truth of the matter when he had attempted earlier.  The spell hadn’t worked on him for some reason despite having used a similar one in the crypt.  The dagger’s enchantment was getting stronger.  Merlin knew his time was limited.  His focus now was to find counter measurements to Morgana’s plans.  Merlin hoped there was something in the books that would help them.  And if not, then he hoped an evening chat with the old dragon would shed some light on how to put away a Gatekeeper.


	12. A Race Against Time

**Sir Percival**

Things had gone wrong the moment he and Elyan entered the third tower to where the armor was kept.  While the climb up had been arduous, what they faced inside the tower was nothing they had been prepared for.

When they entered through the window, they saw the armour sitting in the middle of the room with nothing guarding it from outsiders.  There, three dragon-like gargoyles had surrounded the prized item in a circle formation.  Within the circumference of the statues, there was a circle drawn on the stone floor with symbols. Percival guessed they were decorative markings.  He was very wrong about his assumption.

The moment he and Elyan crossed the boundary of the inner circle with the symbols, the sound of crumbling sounded and suddenly the stone statues came to life.  Elyan had immediately taken action and used himself as a distraction while Percival went for the armour set.

While Percival knew armour was heavy, the weight of the said artifact was unbelievable.  It was like carrying two Gwaines on the back of his shoulders. 

Moving quickly, Percival had raced to the window of the tower that they had entered from and called down below for them to move aside as he dropped the armour below.  There was a quick response and Percival wasted no time in dropping the artifact.  Once it was discarded down the tower, Percival unsheathed his sword to help his friend.  The creatures were not easy to fight, despite being only three of them.  Elyan had sported a deep cut on his arm but he was still fighting strong.  This was until of course, one of them breathed out a fireball at them.

Percival realized they couldn’t be fighting with these magical creatures, they needed to get out now.  He called to Elyan and he seemed to agree with Percival’s assessment of the situation.  Elyan quickly grabbed the end of the rope that they had used to get to the third tower and he tied it around himself.  Without a word, he felt Elyan grab him as they fell through the tower window.  Percival remembered the fast wind against his face and absolute weightlessness as he plummeted downwards.  But then suddenly there was a jolt.  At first Percival had thought it was because the length of rope had stopped them, but the shadow of something above him told otherwise.

One of the creatures flown down from the tower and had sank its claws into Elyan’s shoulders; they were airborne.  While any other time Percival would have enjoyed the scenery, the situation at hand was nothing short of bad.  Percival could hear the heavy pained breathing of his fellow knight and how hard Elyan was not trying to let him drop.  There were cries of the creature, and Percival knew the other two were coming to its friend’s aid.

Not only were the creatures friend’s coming, but they were also rising higher and higher.  If they waited any longer, a free fall would mean certain death.  If they fell now, where they were, they stood a small chance of survival.  Making a quick decision, Percival managed to retrieve a long dagger from his boot and made a blind stab at the creature.  It hit true as he heard the creature squeal in pain.  And then he felt the plummet again the animal’s claws released Elyan and dropped them.  Percival remembered screaming, but he couldn’t tell if was his scream or Elyan’s as they fell through the trees, branches, and anything that stood between them and ground level.  He just knew that he saw nothing as his head met with a stubborn tree branch that didn’t want to give way. 

When Percival had awoken, he’d known something wasn’t right.  Aside from the very painful headache he was having – likely a concussion as Gaius would say – there was a pile of rags stained in red next to him.

_ Elyan. _

It was Sir Gabriel that updated him of what happened.  They’d fallen after the dragon creature released them, and while they had all hoped the rope that they had secured with would hold, laws of physics took over.  It had snapped due to not only their velocity, but their combined weight as well.  They had been lucky their fall had been broken by leafy foliage and mud from rainfall of the days previously.  While neither had sustained any worrisome injuries from the fall itself aside from scratches and bruises, it was the damage that the creature had done to Elyan that drew concern.

The wound that Elyan’s shoulders and even on his arm, they were not closing.  At the rate that Elyan was losing blood, he did not have long.

Percival made the call then that they immediately set out for Camelot.  Damn this. He was not losing his friend this way.  And Damn Arthur for this stupid quest. 

That had been eight hours ago.  Things weren’t smooth sailing either.  Not only had they been assaulted with a relentless thunderstorm, it was as if all the creatures of the forest were targeting them.  They had met with wrags, wolves, and serkets all along the way back; so much they had to taken off roads they usually did not use.  But even with that strategy, the Gods were not on their side.  The three good knights that had journeyed with them, struggled with them, had all been killed.

Percival was now alone, racing through the downtrodden path as fast as he could back to Camelot with Elyan’s completely unresponsive form behind him.

To make things worse, Anson, his horse, was tiring due to the weight of not only him and Elyan, but to the damned armour.  Percival had wanted to abandon it, but it felt doing that was cheapening the lives of the men that had been lost because of it.  That thought had crossed his three hours ago, back when Percival wasn’t drenched in heavy rain, when he could still see his friend’s chest rise and fall, despite its unevenness.  Now, the choice for Percival was clear, no armour was worth a friend’s life.  If anything, Percival himself would come back and retrieve it.  

“Elyan, hang in there.  We’re about to loose some baggage.  We’ll be back in Camelot lightning fast and Gaius will patch you up.”

His friend gave no response, but Percival was not expecting one from him.  

The rain was falling relentlessly, like a waterfall overhead.  Percival shivered slightly as he dismounted from his horse.  Gently he patted Anson as the horse whinnied for his attention.  The poor animal was exhausted. “Good boy, you’ve had it tough.  But it’ll be easier now, promise.”  He began then to unstrap the armour from the horse.  Just as he unbuckled the last strap, Percival heard a noise behind him.  Instantly he unsheathed his sword and whirled around, ready to attack.

Expecting a wild animal or even a bandit, the last face he expected to see was a fellow knight.   _ Sir Dominic? _

“Sir Dominic?  What are you doing out here?”  said Percival not believing his eyes.   _ Perhaps I’m hallucinating? _

“Thank the Gods, I found you Percival!”  Said the man clearly relief was on his face.

“What? You’ve been tracking me?”  

“I had thought you had been killed, after seeing the bodies of the other knights...”

“I had to take a different path. I don’t know why, but there have been so many creatures after us since we left with this artifact.”

“It’s likely because the artifact is enchanted with something that drives the creatures.  Merlin said so as much when he told me the journey to meet with you out here.”

“Enchanted? Armour?”  Nothing was making sense to Percival.

“Nevermind it.  I will explain as we head back.  But first, let me take the armour.”

Percival nodded, and most happily gave the artifact to the other knight.  Sir Dominic, however, didn’t immediately strap it to his horse.  Instead he wrapped it around some sort of cloth.

_ Perhaps to keep it dry _ , was Percival’s thought.  _  Yes because that stupid armour was that important. _

“Sir Dominic, do you have any bandages?”

The knight nodded was about to ask where he was wounded when he noticed the unmoving body atop of Percival’s horse.  The rain had made it difficult to make out anything that had no movement.

“Sir Eylan!” he said in surprise.  “What has happened to him?”

“He was attacked by magical creatures that guarded the armour.  We need to get back to Camelot, get him to Gaius.”

“Gaius is not in Camelot.. Yet.  Merlin is there, I know he is a good apprentice to the physician.”

“Good, Elyan... he needs help.  I think he’s dying.”  Sir Dominic nodded in agreement as he passed Percival some fresh bandages.  

“We need to make haste now,” said Percival once he was done wrapping Elyan’s injuries.  “You can explain to me on the way what is going on,” he added.  

Sir Dominic nodded and they both mounted on their respective horses and raced towards Camelot.  


	13. Waiting for Nightfall

**Gwaine**

Weariness, that was what Gwaine saw in Merlin’s eyes.  The younger man had been steadily looking more tired each hour he remained awake.  The dark shadows under Merlin’s eyes seemed to deepen, and under the light, Gwaine tried not to stare at how much more pronounced his friend’s cheekbones were.   _ Failing health _ . 

Despite how exhausted Merlin appeared, Gwaine could see the determination in his eyes.  Gwaine couldn’t stay in Gaius’s chambers all day and watch over Merlin, no matter how much he felt the need to.  He had to maintain the pretense, in case Morgana had eyes on them.  So Gwaine had slept a few hours – finally giving into the fatigue and then left for a few hours for his practices.  He also mingled with the guards to find out any information, mostly on the status of Percival and Elyan.  Gwaine took this time to prepare for riding out on the next quest.  Arthur’s orders were still in effect and he had two days before he was to leave Camelot, whether he liked it or not. 

Gwaine had crossed paths with Arthur a few times during the day, and each time he tried gage on the King’s health.  Appearance, Gwaine could tell no difference from the King’s normal state.  If Merlin had not told them of the King’s condition, Gwaine would not even have thought of it.   _ Maybe Leon being a skeptic wasn’t all in the wrong.  But he should know better than not trust Merlin! _  Gwaine was frustrated at his fellow knight. He had wanted to say more earlier to him about the way he was acting towards Merlin, like he was somekind of outsider.  Just hours ago Leon had trusted Merlin simply by his word.  Now Merlin’s word wasn’t enough.  Leon had looked only to him on what they should do next, as if the young sorcerer wasn’t even in the room.  Sorcerer... Gwaine knew he was still getting used to the idea, but never would he falter in trusting Merlin.  

Not only did Gwaine know he would never distrust Merlin, but he also could see why the young man hid away as he did.  Merlin was in a Kingdom where magic was outlawed and meant he could be killed if he was caught using it.  Imagining his friend protecting them in secret using his magic suddenly made Gwaine sad.  What a burden Merlin must have shouldering in silence.  How many times had his friend put on a guise as a fool while they were on Patrol just so that he would never be suspected to be anything but a fearful clumsy servant.   _ And how many times have you heard the King belittle Merlin? _ The question asked itself in Gwaine’s mind.  Though he knew that they had often said it in jest, but how much it must have irked Merlin not to simply tell them to shut it and that if it were not for his help they would have all died twice over.  

Merlin deserved so much more than being looked at as a clumsy fool of a servant.  Not only was his friend good and talented, but he was deeply loyal.   _ Loyal to a fault _ , Gwaine realized as he looked at his friend’s poor complexion.   _ He puts all others above himself _ .

Gwaine was restless watching Merlin leaf through yet another book.  That and he was starting to get hungry.  Deciding that he may as well feed himself and Merlin, Gwaine went to fix himself some porridge.  This time, he was going to make it better.  The first time had been a bust because it was late at night and Gwaine lacked sleep, he’d also sprinkled in the wrong spices from the rack.  This time, with ample sleep, Chef Gwaine was going to make a porridge that would be unrivaled in all of Camelot.  Well, perhaps that was being a little to exaggerated.   _ Maybe just good enough for me to eat it _ . 

Gwaine grinned when he tasted the porridge after he was done.   _ Not bad _ . 

“Merlin, you need to eat,” he said firmly when he returned to Merlin’s chambers.  The younger man’s eyes were fixed yet on another passage in yet another book.  _ Deeply engrossed, indeed,  _ thought Gwaine.

“I’ve made food,” he announced again.

Merlin nodded.  “Thanks,” though he didn’t look up.

“You’re not sitting in here and eating.”

“Just for today.”

_ Just like a child _ , thought Gwaine shaking his head.

“No, you’ve stayed cooped up in here too long.  We’re eating.  Now.  Outside.”  Gwaine crossed his arms and stood there, trying to look authoritative. 

There was silence for a moment and then a growling sound broke it.  Merlin’s own stomach had given in.

Gwaine grinned as Merlin looked up a bit sheepishly.

“Okay, we’ll eat outside.”

“Good,” said Gwaine with a smile as he helped Merlin up from his sitting position. 

Once they were in Gaius’s chambers, he helped his friend sit down by a table and placed a bowl of heaping hot porridge in front of him.

The younger man looked the food for a moment, wrinkled his nose and asked with a grin, “Better than last night’s?”

“Hey! I thought you said it was good!  You even asked for a second helping,” Gwaine defended his creation despite knowing the truth.

“I was starving, Gwaine.  You could have boiled twigs and it would have tasted good,” said Merlin.

“I see you’re in better spirits, giving insults to my cooking skills…”

In truth, Gwaine was happy to get any reaction from Merlin.  Getting him even to leave his room was a large feat already. 

“Here, try it,” he said nodding at the bowl. 

Merlin, though, gave him a look that said, I’m not taking a bite until  _ you _ do.

“Look, see?” said Gwaine as he spooned a big scoop of porridge into his mouth.  “mmmm good.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at that, “I’m not a baby.”

Gwaine gave his young friend a toothy grin at his response and then by reflexed ruffled Merlin’s hair.

He was rewarded with a mock glare by Merlin before he too took a spoonful of the porridge into his mouth.  A small smile slowly slid across his face and Gwaine knew he’d succeeded in making edible porridge.

“I guess you have improved.  If you ever decide to quit the knighthood, I’ll ask if the kitchens need an assistant.”

“That’s my second choice.  Thinking of joining an acting troupe…”

Gwaine received an arched eyebrow from Merlin for his response.

“Leon agreed with me.”

“I’m sure he did.”

Gwaine could see Merlin was trying not to roll his eyes. 

They ate and chatted like that for the next half hour, and it was the most normal time that Gwaine had had for the past week.  He was quite enjoying it until the door to Gaius’s chambers suddenly swung open. 

Sir Dominic and Percival stumbled in shouldering an unconscious Elyan.  Gwaine could see that some rough bandages had been tied tightly around the knight’s shoulders and left arm.  And that all the bandages were stained deep red.

“Merlin, we need your help!” Said Percival in a rush. 

Merlin set his spoon down immediately and moved towards the newcomers as swiftly as he could.  Gwaine would have helped, but he sensed his friend wanted to be able walk there on his own.

“Lay him down on the bed here,” said Merlin pointing to a long patient’s bed at the far side of the room.

The knights complied immediately, laying Elyan on his side.  Merlin went to inspect man, gently inspecting the soaked through bandages.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Magic creatures that protected the armour, they attacked us.  Elyan… he got injured in the process.  The wounds shouldn’t have been so critical, they should have stopped bleeding hours ago.  But it’s not.  Merlin…can you help him?”

Anyone could see that Percival had gone through hell and back.  The man’s usual stoic face looked beaten.  Seeing that it was only he and Sir Dominic that helped Elyan to Gaius’s chambers it meant only one thing, the other knights that had gone with them had perished.

Gwaine caught Sir Dominic’s eyes and the man nodded in confirmation.  Damn Morgana.  How many good men had died because of her.

“Gwaine, I’m going to bring the armour here,” said Sir Dominic.

Gwaine nodded and the knight left the room swiftly.  Turning his attention back to Elyan, Gwaine noticed the pensive look on Merlin’s face.    _ My friend, what are you thinking? _

“Gwaine,” said Merlin turning to him, “Could you help get that small blue book from my room?  I’ll prepare some clean water.”

_ Oh no _ .  Gwaine didn’t want to move from his spot.  He had a feeling on what Merlin was going to do, and he didn’t like it.  But then looking Elyan’s unresponsive form on the bed, Gwaine knew that there was not much of a choice in the matter.   _ And just when things started to feel normal _ , thought Gwaine unhappily.  He left the room and when he returned with the book, Merlin had already unraveled the last of the bandages on Elyan and was inspecting the unconscious knight carefully.

Gwaine relunctantly placed the small book in front of Merlin, who nodded his thanks.

“Was he bitten by any chance,” asked Merlin softly as he eyed Elyan’s shoulder wound close up.

“The creature never bit Elyan,” said Percival.  “It just attacked him with its claws.  I’ve.. never seen anything like this.  He’s been like this for over a day, none of his injuries from the creature has healed.  The worse is that he hasn’t really regained consciousness either.”

“Is there poison in the wounds, Merlin?” asked Gwaine. 

“No, I don’t see any evidence of it.  I see you’ve used some herbs on him already,” said Merlin as he used a clean cloth with water to dab away the dried poultice. 

“I did.  It didn’t do a thing.  Didn’t make the blood stop flowing.  Please Merlin, you must help him.”

_ As if you need any more urging, _ thought Gwaine uncomfortable with the look that Merlin had on his face.  He was going to cast a spell, Gwaine just knew it.  While any other time he would have been happy for Merlin being able to save his friend with just a few words, Merlin was in no condition to do so.   _ I should have taken him to the dragon sooner instead of waiting till nightfall _ .  But Merlin had insisted that they waited.  They needed to do the research, give the dragon something to work with. 

“Merlin,” Gwaine said with a slight warning in his voice.  “Maybe we can wait till you see Kilgharrah.”

“Who’s Kilgharrah?”

“A friend of Merlin's,” responded Gwaine who still hadn’t moved his eyes from the younger man.

There was a look of indecision on Merlin’s face.   _ Because my friend, you know you’re not doing so hot,  _ thought Gwaine.   _ You now what I’m saying is the right thing to do _ .  

“Okay.  Let’s meet with Kilgharrah first,” Merlin said somewhat defeatedly.

_ I know mate, you hate doing this to Elyan, but you need to help yourself first.  Elyan made it so far, he can wait just a little bit until you’re fixed up enough to help him. _

“Wait, what? What about Elyan?”  said Percival in alarm.

Gwaine felt terrible as well, but what good would it do if Merlin wasn’t able to save Elyan in his condition and worse yet, Merlin himself also collapsed? No one would win.  Merlin must have thought the same.

“After I see Kilgharrah, I will treat Elyan immediately, I promise,” said Merlin.  Gwaine could see the younger man wanted to add more, but he stopped himself.  

“Come on Merlin,” said Gwaine as he moved over to help his friend. The faster they got Merlin help, the sooner they could get back and help Elyan. They were about to exit the chambers when Percival’s voice called out in alarm.

“Gwaine, Merlin, I can’t feel his pulse!”

Both of them turned and Merlin like lightning was by Elyan’s side searching desperately for a pulse.  

Gwaine’s heart pounded as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.  Had his hesitance in helping his fellow knight led to his death? By the Gods, Gwaine hoped not. 

“There’s barely a beat, but it’s there,” said Merlin, his fingers pressed against Elyan’s neck.  Gwaine let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  _  Elyan, hang in there! _

Merlin quickly leafed through the small blue book Gwaine had given to him earlier and stopped at a page with a corner crease on it.

“Þurhhæle dolgbenn,” said Merlin and Gwaine saw the flash of gold in the younger man’s eyes at the same time a glow in Merlin’s hands. 

Percival drew back in shock. Gwaine, however, wasn’t focused on Percival’s shock at the discovery that Merlin had magic.  He was more concerned about Merlin’s condition.  The younger man’s hand was shaking slightly as it hovered over Elyan’s injured shoulder.

Was it working? wondered Gwaine.  Yet he knew it was obvious the magic had not worked, the open wound still bled freely.  

“Licsar ge staðol nu,” said Merlin with a new incantation. There was another glow, but this one was brighter. 

Nothing again.

“Icse þe þurhhæle þin licsare staðol,” tried Merlin and this time, Gwaine could see it had some effect, on both fronts.

The wound on Elyan was closing rapidly, colour was returning to the knight’s previously ghostly parlor.  Suddenly, the knight drew in a deep breath and his eyes slowly opened.  “Percival?  Gwaine?  Merlin?”  Elyan’s face was full of confusion.

“Elyan!” Percival cried in relief. 

Merlin looked positively relieved as well and then suddenly he lost the energy to stay upright.  Gwaine moved quickly and caught him before he could hit the floor. 

As he caught his friend, Gwaine felt a sticky wetness in his hands.  Gwaine didn’t need to look at it to confirm it, because he knew the coppery scent of blood when he smelled it.

The wound had reopened due to the stress that Merlin had undergone in casting the healing spell over Elyan.

Gwaine needed to get Merlin to the dragon right now.  But as if one surprise wasn’t enough that evening, the door swung open again.


	14. A Brief Reunion

** Merlin **

Everything faded to grey around him.  One moment he had felt the relief that Elyan was healed and the next his legs gave way.  Merlin’s body felt a lancing pain at his lower abdomen and he knew that the wound had reopened.    Merlin had felt Gwaine grab hold of him the moment he lost balance.  He was about to thank the man when the door suddenly swung open.   _ More company? _

There was a moment where Merlin chided himself on not adding some sort of spell on the door itself, like not letting it open without notifying its occupants.    Thankfully, however,  the uninvited guests were the very people Merlin had hoped to see.  

Sir Lucas entered, followed by a very weary Gaius.  Merlin couldn’t but feel utter relief seeing his mentor whole and unhurt.  

“My boy, what happened?!”  Gaius exclaimed when he saw Merlin’s condition.  The physician rushed over to his side, eyes scanning him fearfully.

“Oh lots happened while you were gone,” he said, though Gaius didn’t seem to understand him.  Instead the older man looked even more alarmed.  “Gwaine, what in names happened to him?!”

_ Why are you shouting? _  Wondered Merlin.   _ And why aren’t you talking to me?  I’m trying to explain...  _  Oh.. he realized why.  His words were likely probably obscured by the blood trickling from his mouth.  Perhaps trickling was understating it.

Gaius had taken out his handkerchief and was rapidly wiping blood from that fell from Merlin’s lips.  “Sorry,” he said feeling terrible for greeting his mentor in such a state.  At the corner of Merlin’s eyes, he could see the shock on the other knight’s faces.

Gaius had moved on from to examining Merlin’s true injury, the gaping wound on his abdomen that bled far too freely.

“Why is Merlin bleeding? Gwaine?”

“Long story, Gaius, but we need to get him to Kilgharrah,” said Gwaine apologetically.

Merlin could see a beat of a pause in Gaius as he digested the fact Gwaine must have known his secret.   _ Sorry,  _ Merlin apologized in his mind,  _ couldn’t keep the secret _ .  In fact Merlin was pretty sure everyone in the room, aside from Sir Lucas, knew he had magic.  

“Can you carry him?”

“Was already on it,” said Gwaine, and lifted Merlin like a ragdoll in his arms.  The knights moved aside as Gwaine rushed past them, but not before he said, “Sir Dominic is bringing the armour here, make sure you don’t hand it over to Arthur!  Lucas, explain to them.”  

“Merlin,” said Gaius as he followed in near equal pace to Gwaine through corridors, “You must stay awake to call Kilgharrah, understand?  I cannot command his presence, only you can.”  Merlin did his best to nod.  He didn’t have the energy to speak anymore.  

“We must hurry, Gwaine.”  The knight nodded and Merlin felt himself fly through the corridors.  Merlin was quite proud of Gwaine, he had remembered the more isolated route from the castle to the outside.  The rushing movement, however, had made Merlin feel so dizzy and nauseous he couldn’t help but shut his eyes.  It felt good to close them.  The haze of pain he had felt earlier began to diminish.  He was again back at the lake of Avalon, though there was no Freya to greet him this time.  He was alone, floating gently on the isolated lake, the calm cool water embracing him, submerging him.  The sounds around him started to muffle, until it was but soft echoes.  It was very peaceful.  Merlin liked where he was.  No pain.  No worries.  Just silence.

But then there was a tap and then a loud cry. Or was it a scream?  Whatever it was, it disturbed the momentary peace Merlin was feeling.  He really wanted the noise to go away.  There was a feeling on his cheek.  A tap?  Yes.  Again. Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  A shake.  More shaking.  Oh.  The burning sensation returned and a wave of pain washed over him.  Suddenly the lake seemed to drain beneath him, and he was lying on solid ground, dirt and grass at his fingertips.

Merlin opened his eyes slowly to see stars gazing back down on him.   _ Oh that’s Draco _ .   _ So sparkly. _  Something about the constellation was telling him it was important.  

“Merlin, Merlin!”  The garbled sounds earlier became actual words now that he recognized.  A face came into view.  Scruffy fella.  Dark brown hair that fell over a rather chiseled face.  Merlin knew this person.   _ Hmm _ .  “Merlin!”  Now why was this man so upset, he couldn’t comprehend.  “Merlin, come out of it.  You have to call Kilgharrah.  You have to call the dragon now.”

Another face came into view.  This one was an older man, white hair that fell over his shoulders. He looked so sad and terribly upset.   _ Why are you so sad? _ Wondered Merlin.   _ Don’t be upset _ .  He wanted to reach out to the old man, but couldn’t find the energy to.  The old man was wiping something away from his lips and getting more upset.  A flash of gold came across his eyes as he spoke.  The scruffy man beside him looked surprised for a moment, but then he went back to check on him, again with the name, “Merlin.”

“Merlin.  Come on.  Come out of it.  Please.  We need you to stay with us.  Arthur.  Arthur needs you!  Camelot needs you.  We need you.  Merlin!”

_ Arthur _ .  The name sounded familiar.  Arthur.  A memory of a golden haired man, in full armour, blade in hand, rushing to battle... laughter, with knights around a fire... then himself dressed in a silly costume… There again was the golden haired man, laughing with him, rolling his eyes.  Arthur.  He seemed like a friend.

Beside him stood a taller, sterner man with a crown of gold.  A King.  he was cold, untouchable.  And a beautiful woman, dressed in an elegant green gown, brown hair that flowed past her shoulders.  She had a pale face, piercing eyes... cold eyes.  Evil.  She felt different from the blonde man.  Arthur was his friend.  Why that thought kept coming back to him, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that to be true.  But then there was a blade in this Arthur’s hand.  Why was the man he thought to be a friend wielding such an item.  The woman was beside the man named Arthur now.  A smile, oh such a calculated smile she had.  Arthur was weeping now.  There was blood on his hands.  The elegantly dressed woman stood smirking, drinking in the blonde man’s pain.  Suddenly, he was looking down at the scene before him, in a birdseye view.  Oh.  That was why the man was weeping.  Someone was dying.  A pool of blood was spanning, colouring the perfect marbled floor.  The person dying looked familiar though.

“Merlin!”

Ah.  Merlin, that was him!  Oh.  Dying.  That person dying was him.  Was he dying now? Why recall dying to only to die again?  Things were not making much sense to Merlin, none whatsoever.

“Merlin, call the dragon.  I beg of you.”  It was the elderly man that was pleading him.

_ Dragon.  Ah, I know one, and he’s up there in the sky!  I guess I’ll call one if you need it, nice old man. _  And Merlin called out for the dragon in the stars.  

“O drakon, fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro!”

It sounded rather soft to Merlin’s ears, but he supposed he did a good job because the two men stopped shouting at him.

_ Good.  Now I can rest.   _ He thought as he closed his eyes.

Nope, rest wasn’t going to come.  Merlin could hear something land heavily on the ground.   _ Why of course, I summoned a dragon, obviously one would come!  But I called for a constellation?  Since when did stars come to life? _

“What has happened to the young warlock?  Did I not ask you, knight of Camelot to watch over him?”  Oh the dragon sounded cross indeed, thought Merlin.   _ I would not like to be in that man’s shoes. _

“And why are you, traitor and aider of Uther Pendragon during the purge, here?”

“Alright, Kilgharrah, you can roast us later,” said Gwaine quickly, “but help Merlin first?”

There was a grunt of acknowledgement before Merlin felt something cool flow over him and suddenly the pain and haziness that clouded his mind vanished.  And with it his consciousness as a cool darkness wrapped around him and Merlin was enveloped in its sweet serenity.

** Gwaine **

Gwaine didn’t know what he was expecting, but it didn’t involve seeing his friend go completely slack on the forest floor.   _ Were we too late? _ Thought Gwaine with a sinking feeling.  Immediately he knelt down beside the unconscious young man, fear in his eyes.

No.  Merlin was definitely alive, there was a small rise and fall of the younger man’s chest.  But why wasn’t he awaking?

“He needs to rest to recover.  My magic is losing its effects against the cursed dagger,” spoke Kilgharrah as if reading his mind.   _ Are dragon’s psychic? _ Wondered Gwaine suddenly.

“However,” the dragon eyes seemed to glare at Gwaine, “The spell I had casted earlier should have kept him well longer than this.  What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything… Merlin, he saved a friend with a healing spell.”

“Was it the King?”

“No, one of the Knights,” said Gwaine unsure with what the dragon was getting at.

“Then you should have let him die.”

At the frank tone of the dragon’s words, Gwaine could understand Merlin’s earlier remorse for releasing the dragon.  The creature had goodness in him, but there was a deep bitterness towards all that dwelled within Camelot.  How indeed had Merlin convinced a creature of this magnitude to do anything other than what it set out to do? 

Gwaine swallowed uncomfortably and asked the question that was on his mind, “You said that in order break the spell, the one that stabbed him must die?”

The dragon snorted, “I am doubtful that our young warlock could think to kill Arthur.”

“So you know?”  asked Gwaine in confirmation.  His guess had been correct, the two had been chatting telepathically previously.

“I do.”  And the dragon curled downwards and his face came closer towards Gwaine.  It was uncomfortably close, given that Gwaine could see its scales and teeth.   _ Do dragons eat humans? _ _ How did you not feel intimidated by such a creature, Merlin? _

“What can we do?  We can’t kill Arthur,” said Gwaine looking at the dragon for an answer.

Kilgharrah, however, didn’t respond.  Instead, he was leaning closer towards Merlin, it’s large head suddenly set down beside Merlin’s sleeping form.  His large yellow eyes were open and watchful over the sorcerer’s prone figure.  It reminded Gwaine of how a cat would lazily eye its master to catch his attention.

Except this was no feline.  It was a giant scaly dragon with very sharp teeth, able to breathe fire and cast magic.   _ A very scary pet indeed _ .

There was a movement and Gwaine realized it was Gaius.  In the commotion he had forgotten the physician was there.  The older man was beside Merlin, gently placing his hand over the young man’s forehead.  Gwaine could see how much Gaius cared for Merlin, like a father to a son.

Gwaine saw the daggers in the dragon’s eyes as he looked at Gaius.  Oh there was definitely history between the creature and the old physician.  Gaius on the other hand clearly did not care about the dragon’s displeasure at his presence.

“When will he wake?” The old physician asked without even glancing at Kilgarrah.

The dragon looked as if he did not want to answer, but relented at the end.

“Perhaps in two or three days,” Kilgarrah rumbled out.  “I would recommend you leave him in my care, traitor.  There is little you can do.”

“Tell me what cursed dagger it is.  I can see if there is something in the old history texts that can help him.” Gaius turned to look at the dragon then, and Gwaine could see a fearlessness in the old man’s eyes.

“Of course you would think you know more than I,” said the dragon looking decidedly angry.

“I am only considering other alternatives.  Merlin cannot kill the king –“

“Of course, it is always about the King.  You care not for your ward.  Just as you were so loyal to your King Uther, you turned your back on your own kind,” snapped the dragon half rising out of anger.

Gwaine couldn’t help but shift slightly back, but he noticed Gaius stayed where he was.  There was challenge in the old man’s eyes and he was not backing away.

“I can only regret the past, Kilgharrah.  I cannot change what was done.”

“Regret,” snorted the creature.  “You know not of that word.”  Suddenly the creature seemed done with their company and rose up again and moved to lift Merlin with one of its front claws.

The creature was going to leave.

No, Gwaine still needed to tell him what they had discovered. 

“Wait,” he said in a rush, “there’s more that has happened since we last saw you.”

The dragon stopped and looked at Gwaine, “Speak then.”

Kilgharrah’s eyes, if it were possible, narrowed as Gwaine updated him on all that they had discovered.  When Gwaine finished, he prayed the dragon would have a magical solution to their problems.

The Kilgharrah remained silent a long moment, as if digesting everything Gwaine said and then he remarked, “Merlin has been busy indeed.”

Gwaine had to agree with the dragon’s conclusion as well.  Merlin has been too busy.  So now at least he was resting.  Gwaine, however, would have preferred a less dire circumstance to allow his friend to recover.  

“Do you have the spell on you?” Asked Kilgharrah.

Gwaine nodded and took out the sheet of paper he had scrunched in his pocket.

The dragon looked at the spell and again silence fell over them.  Gwaine looked over to Gaius who was still by Merlin’s side but his attention was on Kilgharrah.  There were clear lines of worry that creased the older man’s face as he watched the dragon.

“The witch powers have risen further than I imagined,” stated Kilgharrah angrily.

_ Oh this was not good _ , thought Gwaine. 

“The young warlock was correct to be concerned.  Your King Arthur is indeed dying, albeit slowly.”

“What can we do to stop her?”

“You will do as you had planned.  First with the glamoured items to deceive Morgana.  And then you will use the incantation you said Merlin found, the dreamcatcher.  You however, will need to delay the news of the knights returning with the enchanted armour.  Merlin is not yet able to use his magic until he is recovered.”

“And also, as long as the armour stays out of reach to Morgana, we buy time for your King.  Because once she has it, she will finish the spell in order to complete the bargain for Morgause's soul.  I say this to emphasize the importance of the delay.  If you wish to save your King, follow this plan well.”

Gwaine nodded.  “I can make sure the news is delayed.”

“See that you do,” said the dragon, “and this time, see that Merlin does not attempt to do anymore healing spells.  At least until the curse on him is broken.”

“About that curse --,” 

“Just do as I said, knight of camelot.  No more questions.”

_ Patient fellow aren’t you? _ Thought Gwaine unhappily.  At least it was a plan he and Merlin had talked about.  He definitely trusted his friend more than this impatient creature that towered over him.

“How do we know when Merlin is back?  Do we come back here?”

“When Merlin is well, he will simply make his way to Camelot,” replied the dragon shortly.  If a dragon could roll its eyes, Gwaine felt like he witnessed it.

_ Well, no timeline, okay.  Two or three days, at least there was an estimate.  Oh crap.  Right, Arthur’s orders. _  Gwaine had forgotten all about it.  He had to leave Camelot for that... but that Gwaine would just have to think of a way to get around it.   __

Kilgharrah decided the conversation was over then, and with one last look at him, and then a glare at Gaius, he lifted Merlin’s unconscious form up with his front claws and flew upwards into the starry night.  Even though Gwaine had seen it already once that day, it was still quite a sight.  _  Such a creature indeed. _

Gwaine looked to Gaius for a moment and then the older man nodded, “We should get back, now.  And tell me what happened to Merlin while I was sent away.”

Gwaine swallowed thickly wanting to spare the physician the details.  But he knew not telling the older man would be a greater folly than to share the tale.  And so as they headed back to Camelot the second night in a row, Gwaine recounted everything that transpired to Gaius, leaving nothing out.


End file.
